


From Shore to Shore

by generalatomicsgalleria (charmingotter)



Series: The Void Loves You, Corvo [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Complete, Drowning, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, also is in denial, also the Void is sorta a character too, corvo gets sick, sorta - Freeform, updating Fridays and sundays, weeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingotter/pseuds/generalatomicsgalleria
Summary: "As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love." -Anne Sexton





	1. Prologue, There Were Plenty of Reasons to Let Him Drown

There were plenty of reasons to let him drown, the Outsider knew as he watched Corvo Attano struggle. Watched his lungs slowly fill with salt water. Watched him choke on it, even as the waves crashed against him. Plenty of reasons, he thought again. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a sort of tug at what might've once been his heart. _Corvo Attano was dying._

Suddenly, he couldn't stand seeing him suffer any longer. It wasn't difficult, saving him. A simple pulling of strings really. Catch the eye of one sailor, convince the ocean to calm for a moment, pull him to the surface by his marked hand himself, all in a matter of seconds. 

But that was where his help ended. He let the sailors pull him onto their ship. Watched them pump his chest, breath air into his lungs, save his life. The Outsider breathed a sigh of relief when Corvo began coughing, retching up seawater until his lungs were free of it. The sailors cheered, asked him what he was doing. The Outsider was as curious as they were. What had he been doing? 

He told them there had been a dog. A dog in the water. He had went in to get it. And get it he did, placing it on the rocks near the shore. But then a wave had drawn him under. And under and under. 

“Well, you're a lucky bastard that's for sure,” one of them told him, slapping him on the back. “Most people woulda died out there.” The man laughed, “Void musta loved you enough to let you go this time.”

Corvo nodded his agreement, flexing his left hand. The Outsider couldn't help but mirror the action. 

_There were plenty of reasons he could have let him drown._ Why didn't he though?


	2. He Thinks Too Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing the Outsider is strange. You never know when he will show up, but when he does you know he's got a reason. Usually impending disaster. Sometimes not though. You think maybe he's lonely. Who wouldn't be after four thousand years in the Void? So, you chat with him when he comes around. That's something he likes it seems. He likes to talk. You know he never says all that he wants. _It's just how things are._

“You didn't have to come you know,” Emily told him, hooking her arm through his as they walked through the market. She was happy today. Though excited might be a better word. Wyman would be arriving this evening and they hadn’t seen each other in months. She should be excited. Any normal lovestruck young woman would be. 

“Actually, I did.” He patted her hand gently. “It is the job,” he reminded her. 

Emily blew a raspberry at him. “I don't think I'm going to be in any danger at the market picking out fruit, _Lord Protector_.”

“Well, _Empress_ , it is my job to keep you from whatever danger may or may not appear, even while you are picking out fruit.” He smiled and nudged her forward. “I'll wait here.”

“Would you like anything?” She asked, unhooking her arm from his. He just shook his head, letting her go. 

It was only then that he felt something tugging at the back of his coat. “You're the Lord Protector, aren't you?” It was a girl. A very young girl. She couldn't have been older than 12. 

Seeing the devastatingly desperate look in her big brown eyes he knew he would regret his next words but he said, “I am. Is there something I can help you with?” There has to be something she wanted. No one talked to himself if there wasn't. 

She became hesitant then, her hands twisting together with anxiety. “I…I don't know.”

He squatted down, so they were somewhat eye to eye. “It's okay, you can tell me.” He had always had a bad soft spot for children. 

“I, I, I-”

“Stop,” he told her, putting a hand on her tiny shoulder that was skinny even for her age. “Take a deep breath.” When she did he continued, “Good. Now, tell me what's wrong.”

She nodded. “My father,” she said slowly. “I think my father is doing something bad.” She bit her lip, looking down at her feet. 

“Why do you say that?” Corvo asked gently. 

“He hits me…He hits me and...,” she paused hesitantly. “He takes money from bad people.” Corvo waited patiently for her to continue, feeling sure there was more to this story. “Bad people in the alley behind our bakery.” She took another deep breath. “I heard them talking once, about poison. He said- he said-” she finally broke off, looking down at her feet and sniffling. 

“It's okay,” he told her, squeezing her shoulder. 

“He killed my mom.” The words come out all at once, and like a dam broke, tears began to flow, running down her face onto his shoes and the dirt between them. “You- you have to-”

“Fix it,” he finished for her. “I will. I will fix it.”

 

His daughter chose that moment return to him. “Oh, hello there. Father, what's going on?” Emily asked quietly, peering down at the two of them curiously, trying it seemed, to not scare the crying child. 

“Well, it seems I've made a new friend.” Emily quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. “She needs help,” he explained but kept his tone light- for the girl. 

“Oh,” Emily smiled. “I see.”

“I think we should all go back to Dunwall Tower together,” he said looking at the little girl. “And on the way, you can tell me more about what's been going on.” He grabbed her hand and nodded to Emily. “Here, you can hold my hand and hers.” He used his right hand, not wanting to use his hand with the Outsider’s mark on it. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Her big brown tearful eyes reminded of Emily when she looked up at him and asked, “You promise?”

Corvo nodded. “I promise.” He didn't usually make promises, but he was determined to help now. 

Emily extended her hand, softly taking the younger girl's hand in her own. “ What's your name?” She asked. 

“Olive.”

Emily hummed. “Well, Olive, my name is Emily.” As if the fact wasn't obvious, Corvo thought. Despite being Empress, she had always introduced herself as ‘Emily’ though, never anything official or formal. A bad habit no one had ever been able to break her of, including himself- but then, he had never really tried no matter who begged him to make her see reason. It was a bad habit of his own anyway, who was he to correct her. 

They all walked, hand in hand, the short distance back to Dunwall Tower. Olive told them a good many things on their way there. The name of the bakery where her father worked for instance. And that her favorite color was purple. She also informed them that she loved reading about them- almost as much as the stories of the Outsider apparently. At that, Corvo and Emily had exchanged equally concerned glances, but neither said anything to stop the outpour of information from the girl. 

Emily sent the girl off to the kitchen with a guard and her fruit from the market when they arrived and made Corvo come with her into the drawing room. “What are you doing, Father? We don't know this little girl. Why is she here?” She rubbed her forehead, looking very tired. “And what, pray tell, are you helping her with?”

“She said she needed help. There's something going on with her father,” he shrugged and sat down. “I just...wanted to help, I don't know.” He shrugged again. He truly didn't. He scrubbed at his face tiredly. Maybe it was because she looked so much like Emily had when she was a child. Maybe it was because he couldn't stand not doing something when he was most certainly capable. 

“Fine,” Emily sighed. “Fine, but what are we supposed to do with her now? Did we just kidnap a little girl?”

“She says her father hits her, I really doubt she'll be missed for one night. If we talk to him tomorrow, we’ll be able to clear everything up then anyway.”

“One night?” 

“One,” he said. “I'll go check things out tonight and we’ll talk to him tomorrow, but I'm not sending her back there until things are settled.”

“And what if it's true? Then what?”

“Then I don't know.” Pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, he said, “I told her I'd fix it though.” Standing up and walking over to where she paced he put his hand on her shoulders, stopping her. “I'm going to fix it.”

Emily bit her lip. “You know Father, you can't save everyone.” Her words were soft but he caught the underlying edge to them- _please, stop doing these things_. 

Corvo bowed his head. “No,” he agreed. “I can't, but...I’ll do what I can.”

She gave him what was almost a grimace. “I just don't want you...doing what you did before.”

“You mean almost drowning?” She winced. “I’ll be fine,” he tried to give her his best convincing smile. He would be. After coming back from the brink of death one had to assume things would be at least be okay. “I'm going to go get ready. I'll send Sam down so you're not alone.” He kissed her forehead softly before stepping away. “I'll be fine,” he told her again. 

She just sighed as he walked away. 

He asked one of the maids to send Sam up to his room as he passed her. He was the only guard he really trusted to watch over Emily when he himself was busy. 

It wouldn't be a dangerous mission, but it was going to be a tedious one. It wasn't that anyone else couldn't do this for him really, but he just had to do this himself for some reason. The little girl had found him for a reason. She could have talked to anyone, but she seemed to trust him to help her more than anyone else. Maybe it was the title. ‘Protector’ was certainly a comforting one, especially to little girls who needed it. 

He considered what he'd do when he got there though. Watching seemed the best option until he saw anything suspicious he supposed, but he also might have to do some investigating in the dark…

A knock on the door interrupted his thought. “Come in,” he said, knowing it would be Sam. 

Sam was young, though older than he had been when he had first come to Dunwall certainly. He reminded Corvo of Wyman actually, but less nervous. Just as lanky and tall, the only real difference between them physically was that Sam was blonde and had a square jaw. “Lord Protector,” he said, coming in and shutting the door behind him. “You requested me?”

“Yes, you're to watch over Emily tonight. I've got something I need to do.” He cinched his belt up, adjusting his scabbard. “I don't think I need to tell you that if I come back and she isn't as I left her- I will be holding you personally responsible for whatever may have befallen her.” 

Sam shook his head. He had done this enough times to know how things went. “No, sir. I understand, of course.”

“Good, then,” he dismissed the man. “She's in the drawing room. Go.”

No sooner had he put his sword in its scarab and pulled out his pistol than another knock sounded at his door. “Enter,” he said, loud enough for whoever it was to hear while he searched for his bullets. 

“Lord Protector,” Wyman greeted him, though Corvo had told him many times to call him by his name and not his title. He looked particularly nervous tonight though. More nervous than he normally looked. 

Corvo still failed to see what Emily liked so much about him, but he supposed he was a decent enough man. “What do you want, Wyman?” He asked, finally finding a box of ammo. He hoped he wouldn't need it, but it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. 

“I was wondering if I might be able to speak to you a moment.” He hasn't moved much further into Corvo's room though, standing only a few feet within the door. 

“I'm busy,” he answered, and began loading his pistol. “You'll have to make it quick.”

“Uh,” he scratched the back of his head, brown curls bouncing almost comically. “It's a sort of serious matter.” 

“Then spit it out.”

“I want to marry Emily.” It came out in a rush, Wyman leaning toward Corvo slightly as if the force of his words had propelled him forward. 

Neither of them spoke or even moved for a beat. Finally, Corvo sighed, “I have something I need to go do.” He moved past Wyman and towards the door, not really feeling like having this talk with the boy right now. 

“I just-” Wyman began, making him take pause at the door. Corvo did not turn to look at him. “I know you're her Father and I wanted your blessing before I…” he trailed off. 

“As I said, I'm busy right now, Wyman.” Corvo shook his head. “We’ll talk later,” he said continuing on his way. 

That evening he climbed over rooftops to his destination and eventually found his watchpoint for the night. It was an abandoned and dirty and he had the faint suspicion that there might be a skeleton somewhere in the building, but the balcony he sat on had an excellent view of the alley he needed to watch. 

His thoughts festered as he sat though. There was too much. About the girl. About Emily. About what Wyman had said. Still even about the incident of his almost drowning and what had lead to it. 

Corvo had been sat there only a good ten minutes before faint wisps of black began to flicker at the edge of his vision. When he turned his head the Outsider was standing next to him. “Hello, Corvo.” 

“What do _you_ want?” Corvo asked before turning his attention back to the alley. He always wanted something, didn't he? Mostly, it seemed, he like to bother Corvo with cryptic questions about morality, but he hadn't been around since things had settled down. He wondered what could have been if interest to  
him now. 

“Your thoughts are loud tonight.” His tone gave nothing away. His next words on the other hand did. “Loud enough to hear in the Void.”

Corvo sighed. Of all the things...“Stop listening then,” he suggested with a shrug. It wasn't as though he could help _thinking_. 

The Outsider sat down opposite him on the balcony, looking particularly out of place leaning against the pillar opposite him. He brushed some broken glass out of the way and stretched his legs out next to Corvo’s. The Void hung around him freely, going this way and that as he moved. “If you hear something scratching in the walls in the middle of the night you can't just stop hearing it because you don't want to, can you?” He asked, though he looked more amused than anything.

“Are you comparing my thoughts to being a rat in the wall of the Void?” 

The Outsider didn't answer, his eyes flickering down to the alley. “They won't be here until later. I watched them make the plans.” He saw the Outsiders lips twitch. Just barely. “Which means you have plenty of time to tell me what you've got against this,” his hand flittered through the air momentarily, “Wyman fellow.” 

Corvo rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling terribly tired. “You're not gonna leave are you?” He asked but already knew the answer was a resounding no. The Outsider never left when he felt like things were interesting and he never showed up if things weren't interesting. Though why he had any interest in his thoughts on his daughter’s paramour was as much a mystery as anything about him. 

“You're the one who brought me here, Corvo.” The Outsider crossed his arms over his chest. 

Corvo snorted. That wasn't true. “You brought yourself here,” he said. The Outsider just waited. Finally, Corvo sighed. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Wyman wants to marry my daughter- that's it.”

The Outsider nodded, seeming neither pleased nor displeased. “So, you disapprove of him?”

“No. Not exactly.” Corvo hesitated, but with the Outsider's expectant eyes on him he pressed on, “He’s decent enough, but ...” He shook his head. “I don't know him. I don't know if he loves her,” he laughed ruefully. “I should know at least if he makes her happy and I don't.” He shrugged. All these months they had been together and he had never truly bothered to talk to the man. Mostly because Emily usually wanted to be alone with him, but it wasn't her fault he had never bothered to even try to get to know him any more than he did. “I don't know him.” Corvo shrugged again. 

The Outsider regarded him lightly. “He's left-handed. He’s a very bad aim,” he began listing. “He cares more for his sister than either of his brothers. His parents are dead. He's been carrying the pearl ring he will give to Emily in his pocket for three weeks. Once-”

Corvo held up a hand to stop him. “That's not what I meant.”

“You want to know this won't end badly.” It wasn't a question. 

He looked up at the Outsider, but couldn't stand his piercing gaze for longer than a second and instead turned his attention to the trash at his feet. Corvo kicked at a bottle lightly, accidentally sending it flying over the rail. It shattered. He held his breath trying to hear if he had disturbed anyone from their hiding spot with his mistake. When nothing was heard he looked towards the Outsider again. “She's had enough troubles for a lifetime.”

“She has.” He gave a slight nod of agreement. A moment passed and he spoke again. “As far as I know,” he said evenly, “Wyman won't give her any more.” His words held a certain amount of sureness to them. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was what he could offer Corvo. 

Corvo breathed out a small sigh, bowing his head. When he opened his mouth to speak the sound of heavy, drunken footsteps stopped him. He looked at the Outsider, then down at the alley. Corvo held his breath, watching- waiting. 

The drunken man knocked on the back door of the bakery. After a moment, a fat man with a beard opened the door. Words were exchanged between the two men and finally money swapped between their hands. Corvo heaved a heavy sigh. _Why couldn't people just behave? Did they really have to pay bakers to poison others? Or beat their children? And was it really that hard to refrain from murder?_

When he looked over the Outsider had a small sort of quirk at the edge of his lips- what must have counted as a smile. “Entertaining you, am I?” Corvo whispered, amusement touching his own lips despite his words. He _knew_ he was entertaining the God and for some reason _that_ entertained _him_. The drunken man staggered away, oblivious to the both of them. Corvo didn't wait for an answer from the Outsider, going up and over the balcony railing in one swift motion, and landing softly on the street below. Not that it mattered. Corvo could have thrown a grenade down the street and the drunkard probably wouldn't have noticed. 

Corvo didn't even have to do anything, when he reached him he had already slumped down beside a wall, unconscious. “No fun in that, you've got to admit,” the Outsider said, beside him again. 

“No,” he agreed, scratching at his beard as he looked down at the man. “No fun in that.” It was too bad too, he was in the mood for a fight tonight. Still, he bent down and began his search through the man’s pockets; a stub from a boxing match, a few coins, an old button, and a pistol. He stuffed everything but the gun back where they were. 

“Hold this,” he said and handed the pistol to the Outsider. The swift request was done without much of a thought. As though the person he was talking to was an old friend you didn't have to consider politeness with, not the God of the Void whom people gave sacrifice and built shrines for. And Corvo never asked anything of him. He supposed, of the things the Outsider had been asked for, this was one of the least. Nonetheless, Crovo tried not to think about it and he heaved the unconscious man over his shoulder with a small grunt. “C’mon then.” He had to take care of this idiot before he could investigate the baker. 

The Outsider gave no protest. Probably because Corvo hadn't left room for any, continuing without hesitation. He heard no footsteps, but he knew the Outsider followed. He could feel his eyes on his back as they traveled the short distance to the watchtower across the street. Corvo dumped the body inside and handcuffed him to some pipes. Turning back to the Outsider and he made a faint ‘give it’ gesture to him before being handed the gun back. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “And I’ll try to think more quietly from now on.”

The Outsider regarded him lightly, head cocked to the side slightly. They both knew he wasn’t thanking him for holding the pistol. “I’ll leave you to it then,” the Outsider glanced back at the bakery. “Best of luck, Corvo,” he said. Corvo thought he was about to leave but, he added, “And do be careful.” And with that last piece of advice, he disappeared as quickly and quietly as he had appeared in a small dusting of the Void. 

Did _everyone_ think he was slipping? Corvo shook his head. “I’m just old you know, not stupid,” he hissed into the darkness. Not unexpectedly, there was no answer. 

Now without his companion, he went back to the task at hand. The baker. He would need to get in the building- which was small and old, it would make hiding difficult should the need arise. Nonetheless, he needed to get inside. He needed to find evidence of the girl’s claims- though the meeting he and the Outsider had witnessed had been suspicious enough. 

Entry options were limited. The front door- probably locked at this time of night. The back door- could be a problem if the man was still around. There was a cracked window though, which seemed to open into an empty room. He flexed his marked hand. He'd have to _blink_ up there though. 

It sometimes was hard blinking upwards, but he managed it- just barely, clinging to the widow’s frame with his fingertips. Carefully, he slipped into the room, closing the window behind him. He had been only somewhat right about the room being empty. There was one thing. An old crib. _Perhaps it had been Olive’s?_ But other than that, nothing but dust. 

Corvo opened the door that led only to a staircase and closed it back as quietly as he could despite the creaking wood. He made his way downstairs silently, stopping every few seconds to listen. 

What he eventually came to must have been the den. There was an old couch and a dusty looking chair by a fireplace. It was empty though and so Corvo continued, moving towards the pictures and knick-knacks on the mantel almost instinctively. All the pictures there were of Olive. She looked different though. Better. 

And then, tragically, his elbow hit a vase. Which fell, shattering into a hundred pieces at his feet. And that was it- the baker had found him out. He was coming into the den. “Fuck,” Corvo swore under his breath, rushing to get behind the door so at least he'd have that advantage. 

His heavy footsteps announced him and so Corvo knew exactly when to slam the door into him before moving around to face him. It obviously didn't phase the man much. He was already swinging when he saw Corvo. 

Corvo caught the punch expertly- _using his face_. The next punch he was able to dodge, just barely, and countered with his own. It was enough to make him stagger, but not enough to drop him. Getting to his feet again, Crovo moved around the large man quickly to get him into a chokehold while he was still somewhat stunned. He didn’t want to prolong this any more than necessary. 

He fought. _They always had to fight, didn’t they? Things could never be easy_. He clawed at Corvo’s arm, struggling to get a grip. It was only just a moment though and the man finally ceased, his body going limp. Corvo huffed out a deep sigh, letting him drop to the floor. At least he could look around in peace now.

Unfortunately, his investigation proved to be fruitful. He picked up a vial of what he was almost sure was nightshade in the kitchen. “Damn,” he sighed. Tucking it into his pocket he continued picking through everything. There didn’t seem to be anything else of suspicion in the kitchen and so he moved on to the rest of the house. 

There wasn’t much else of anything he could find actually. At least- nothing incriminating. Though he hadn’t really expected to find much else, truth be told. However, he did stumble upon his own reflection in the bathroom and winced at the sight. There was already a bruise forming across his cheekbone. Corvo touched at it carefully, dreading the scolding awaiting him at home. Emily would never let this go. 

Eventually, he came to a bedroom that had to be the little girl’s. There was a little stuffed rabbit sitting on the bed and drawings of scribbled flowers stuck to the wall. Corvo picked up the rabbit, thinking of how Emily had used to have one just like it. She wouldn’t sleep without it. He wondered if Olive was the same. Stuffing it into his other pocket, careful to make sure it wasn’t the same one as the poison, he went back to the kitchen to take care of the baker. He had to move him to the guard's room with the drunkard. 

The task proved to be more of a challenge than originally anticipated. He weighed so much Crovo had to drag the man the entire way. He handcuffed him with the drunkard, not feeling particularly sorry for the guard who would find them in the morning. If he had to guess, no one involved was going be terribly pleased by the situation. 

He walked back to Dunwall Tower feeling strangely downtrodden. It felt as if everything, all the trouble he had just gone through was for naught. Would it really make a difference at this point? The girl had already endured abuse and the loss of her mother and this wouldn't change either of those things. Nothing ever would. 

When he walked past the docks he couldn't help but linger a moment, listening to the ocean. He pondered for what must have been the thousandth time what would have happened if he had actually drowned out there that day. _You'd be dead_ , he thought. He shook his head and kept walking. 

All the way to the castle he passed not another living soul and the thought caused a particular twinge of loneliness to pluck at his heart.

Once in the castle, he was lucky enough to run into Wyman before he got to his own room. “Wyman,” Corvo said and caught his arm to stop him. Maybe his grip was too much though, or maybe it was the steadily darkening bruise on his face, but the boy looked scared for his life. Corvo let him go, more gentle in his actions this time. He sighed, “Listen, if you want to marry Emily, then you have my blessing.” The other man's face broke out in a huge grin, fear gone. “But,” Corvo continued. “And I don’t think I _need_ to say this, but know I _will_ kill you if you ever do anything to hurt her.”

Wyman laughed. “No. So, Sir, I understand. I would never do anything like that though,” he said. “I love her. Truly.”

Corvo nodded. “Good,” he said and moved forward to continue to the kitchen.

He was almost at the end of the hall when Wyman shouted, “Thank you, Lord Protector. Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Wyman.”


	3. (I Don't Mind)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing Corvo Attano is odd. He is different from the others. Different even from the rest of his marked. And you're not sure why that is. What is it about him that is so maddeningly intriguing? What about him draws you in the way it does? You decided it doesn't matter though. _It's just how things are._

His thoughts had become strangely prominent in the Void. It wasn't anything that could be helped, by either him or Corvo, but ever since he had saved him that day, he could hear him. It wasn't all the time. Just when he was particularly intense in thought about something. 

The mark causing it- it was Corvo’s connection to the Void, it had to be. Until now- it had been only one way though. Odd. 

“What are you doing exactly?” He murmured to the Void. It wouldn't have allowed this if it wasn't okay with it. Very odd indeed. “You've never let any of the others do this.” 

Unsurprisingly, the Void gave him no answer. All the time he had been with it and it had never bothered to give him a real answer. 

It wasn't that he minded really, it was a nice surprise, hearing someone else in the Void. He just wished he knew more about the things he heard. 

And that was the reason he went to talk to him this time. To see what the fuss was about. Who was Wyman and what had he done to get Corvo Attano, _Corvo Attano of all people_ , all worked up? He had had to know. And find out he did. It was nice actually. To know for once what the things he heard actually meant.


	4. He Hides My Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing the Outsider is comforting. Some think the Void is scary. The unknown is to be feared. But it never bothered you. Not as much as it should probably. And now that you know the nothingness- well, it's nice. You find you like it even. As odd as the thought is, it makes you sleep better. It doesn't bother you. _It's just how things are._

It was getting colder. Much colder. The storms were bringing it in. Corvo couldn't help the shiver that went through him as he felt the first few drops of rain pelt down on his shoulders. Still, he stood there, where he was on the edge of the roof a moment longer, watching the ocean. He wasn't sure why, but lately the ocean has just been a sort of comfort to him. He wasn't sure why- it had nearly killed him. But then maybe that was where he found peace. 

When he turned to leave, he almost ran into a familiar figure. _Almost._ “Corvo,” he said. The Outsider had to look up at him when they stood together, but still somehow managed to make it feel as though he were looking down at Corvo. 

Corvo nodded a hello. “Thinking too loud again?” He asked, genuinely curious. To have become a rat in the figurative wall of the Void seemed...a strange new role for him, if nothing else. 

“Not today,” the God replied simply. “That looks like it hurt,” he gestured to Corvo’s bruised face.

“It did,” Corvo said and after a moment, moved past him, finding his footing easily on the roof. It was starting to rain much harder and he had hoped to not to get completely soaked. “What do you want then?”

The Outsider gave made a small noise, something that might've actually been akin to a chuckle. “I can't just pop by for a visit?” He asked, touching a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.

Turning back to look at him Corvo raised an eyebrow. “You can- _obviously_ , but you don't, do you?” It really wasn't that he minded the Outsider. He was actually decent company, if the world wasn't falling apart, but it seemed that was the only time he did show up. So, his sudden appearances couldn’t help but make Corvo feel a little on edge.

“I am now.” The God shrugged, actually hunching over a bit and drawing up his collar to keep the rain out. Something Corvo had somehow thought wouldn't have bothered him. Odd. “Besides, I come bearing gifts,” he added and dropped a bone charm into Corvo’s palm. “So, I don’t keep hearing your every thought all the way from the Void,” he explained.

“I see. So this isn’t actually a social visit,” Corvo smiled grimly, tucking the charm into his pocket. “You just wanted me to be quiet.”

“Maybe not _entirely_. I'm still visiting, am I not?”

Corvo hummed. “Yes, well, I'm going in if you're still visiting,” he informed him, already making his way down the increasingly slick roof to the window ledge. He slipped back into his room through the window as per usual, the Outsider was already there- occupying the only chair in the room, his feet kicked up on the edge of Corvo’s desk. “Make yourself at home.” Corvo rolled his eyes. Stripping off his jacket he threw it onto the bed and sat down beside it to take his boots off. 

Water dripped from his hair when he leaned over. Apparently, a fact the Outsider noticed. “You're going to be sick,” the Outsider told him quietly.

Corvo looked back at him curiously. “Concerned, are you?” Strange to think the Outsider would be concerned about his health of all things. Strange to think he'd be concerned at all. 

The Outisder waved a hand, wisps of black flowing after it. “Just thought you might want to know. From what I recall colds were rather unpleasant.”

“Great,” Corvo sighed. “Just what I need- a cold.” He shook his head and stood up. He was suppose to be getting ready for dinner. 

“You won't die from it, at least.”

“Oh, good to know.” Corvo snorted. “I’d hate to die without warning. Would you do that? Warn me before I am about to die?” Corvo asked. “Consider it one last favor to your favorite form of entertainment?” He said, walking over to his wardrobe. 

“Whatever you want, Corvo.” The Outside’s gaze never left him as he began stripping off clothes. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Dinner.” Corvo paused, unbuttoning his shirt. “Don't suppose you want to join us?” 

The Outsider laughed a real genuine laugh, the effect was almost spooky- the sound echoing through the room like the sound of the ocean. It sent a shiver down his back. Really, it wasn't entirely unpleasant though. No, not unpleasant, just strange. “While I appreciate the gesture,” the Outsider said after a moment, “I think it would be for the best that I decline your invitation.” An impish smile tugged at his lips however. 

Corvo nodded pulling off the rest of his clothes. “You’re probably right.” He shrugged. “Seemed rude to not ask though.”

“I didn’t know you worried yourself over such things, Corvo.” He continued to watch Corvo, his attention seeming particular focused on his left hand. “At any rate, I thank you for the thought. Most wouldn’t have dared even that,” he smiled again. 

Corvo redressed quickly, throwing on whatever clean clothes his hands first landed on. He glanced at the hand the God had been staring at. The wrapping was wet now. He suppose it too would need changing. As he took off the wet piece of cloth to reveal the Outsider’s mark, the God spoke up, “You always keep it covered?”

Corvo shrugged. “It seemed like a better option than being branded a heretic.” He didn't mind looking at it, truly. It was...beautiful in its own unique way. It could have passed as a tattoo even, if it didn't glow on occasion. But the symbol was too recognizable- if you had it, you effectively became one of the Outsider’s, _a heretic_. 

The Outsider frowned as Corvo rewrapped the hand, watching his mark disappear beneath the blue cloth. “Does it bother you?” Corvo asked.

“No,” he answered immediately. And Corvo didn't believe him a bit. His lips were pressed together too hard, arms too tightly crossed- _it bothered him_. 

Wise enough not to oppose the old God, Corvo simply said, “I have to go.” He moved towards the door, but stopped to cast one more glance back at the Outsider. The words were leaving his mouth before he could stop them, “But just so you know, if I didn't have to cover it, I wouldn't.” And he left before the Outsider could reply. 

Dinner felt strangely awkward after that. Of course Emily glaring at him and the addition of their new guest didn’t help much. Wyman tried to break the tension by talking about the wine, but Emily just turned her glare towards him instead. He became quiet again very fast. 

“How did you hurt your face?” Olive asked suddenly, naming the elephant in the room without a thought, peering over curiously at Corvo. 

“Accident,” he answered immediately. No need for her to know the truth of it. She already knew her father was a bad man, no need to make things worse. 

“A _stupid_ accident,” Emily added, her words sharp. She had been very upset that morning when they saw each other. Upset, but then- _pissed_. It had taken about ten minutes for her to stop shouting at him for his newfound recklessness as of late and how if he didn’t stop she was going to kill him herself. 

“Did it hurt?” Olive said, seeming to ignore the Empress in favor of the Lord Protector. 

“No.” He smiled at her. Emily snorted, rolling her eyes. Corvo kicked her under the table, which was, funnily enough,- a knee jerk reaction. He used to have to do that a lot when she was a teenager and needed to be reminded of her manners. She glared at him, but he ignored her the same as Olive. “Like the Empress said, a stupid accident.”

Olive pushed the food around on her plate quietly for a moment before speaking again, “When can I go home?” She looked between Emily and Corvo.

When Corvo hesitated, Emily spoke instead, “It’s difficult to say just yet.”

“Cause of my dad.” She sounded guilty. Like it was her own fault for what her father had done. He hated that. 

Emily sighed. “Yes, because of your father. He’s staying here too,” she added. Which was true. Except, he was far from the lap of luxury in their small dungeon cell. They had moved him there earlier in the day, a task which Corvo was thankfully uninvolved in. From what he had heard he had clocked another somebody in the face on the way. “And we’re going to talk to him tomorrow and see what’s what.”

Olive frowned. “Can I talk to him too?”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Corvo asked. 

“I don’t know that that’s a very good idea,” Emily interjected before she could answer. “Our spymaster will be the only one talking to him,” she explained. “The rest of us will just be there observing. It will be very boring.”

It was obvious Olive did not believe her. But then, Corvo didn’t believe her either, so he couldn’t really blame the kid. 

“Maybe we should talk about something else?” Wyman suggested. The three of them stared at him. “Or not,” he conceded quickly. “Or not. We could all just sit here. That’s good too.” And so they ate the rest of their meal in silence. 

“Goodnight, everyone,” Emily told them all before excusing herself and leaving. Wyman wasted no time excusing himself with her, following behind her quickly. 

Corvo looked down at Olive, who looked up at him. “I guess that means I have to take you to your room, huh?” he said. She shrugged. “Lucky for you I've been here a while and know my way around.” He put a hand on her head, ruffling her hair. 

“Can I eat my peaches first?” She pointed her fork at them. 

“I don't see why not,” he said, but knew he'd regret it. Emily had always taken her sweet time eating as a child. Especially if she didn't want to go to bed and he could already tell Olive didn't either. Dinner was liable to end at midnight at this rate. Nonetheless, he waited patiently. 

“Ready?” He asked when she was finally done, some odd twenty minutes later. She nodded and they both stood. 

They had only walked a few steps into the corridor though when he spoke up. “I hope you know where your room is, because I don’t,” Corvo told her, just to make her laugh. 

Olive giggled, as expected. “It’s down that hall,” she pointed ahead of them. 

“Right, right,” he nodded. 

“I like it here,” Olive told him unprompted as they made their way down said hall. 

“Do you?” He asked, opening her door for her. 

The room was nothing particularly special. A bed and a dresser and a desk with a chair. Though compared to what Corvo saw of her own bedroom it was probably quite a luxury for her. 

“Yeah. It’s really quiet,” she said, already crawling into the bed. “I miss my mom though,” she admitted quietly and it reminded him of so many conversation he had had once had with Emily. 

He sighed, pulling the blanket up over her. “Well, I'm sure she misses you too.” Which...perhaps was not the best of responses, but the words were leaving his mouth before he could truly think about them. Olive frowned at him. She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her quickly- “I have something for you.”

Curious now, she asked, “What is it?”

“Well, when I went to see your father, I picked this up.” He presented the rabbit to her. He had put it back in his pocket earlier for expressly this reason. Well, maybe not _this_ reason, one didn't exactly plan awkward moment with an eight year old, but he had thought she would want it. 

“Mr. Rabbit,” she gasped, snatching the stuffed animal from his hand and hugging it to her chest. “You got Mr. Rabbit.” She stared up at him in awe. 

“I did,” he agreed with a soft smile.

“He let you?” She frowned. “Father hates him.” She looked down at the rabbit, pouting a bit. “Only ‘cause mom made him though.”

“Well,between you and me, I, more or less, kidnapped Mr. Rabbit,” he grinned. “But don't tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” She giggled delightedly. 

Corvo laughed. “It'll be our secret.”

She giggled, but soon became very somber. “Can you keep another secret?” She asked. He nodded, though almost dreaded what she might tell him. 

“My dad,” Olive said, her voice shaking only a little. “He...He’s bad, but mom said we had to love him anyway.” She frowned. “But, I...couldn't. He was hurting people. It wasn't right.”

“No,” he said lightly. “No, that's never right.” 

“ _She_ loved him,” Olive said and he knew she meant her mother. She stroked Mr. Rabbit’s ears fondly, “I don’t know why though.”

Corvo sighed. There wasn’t really a good response to that. Not one that he knew of anyway. “I don’t know either. But, if you still want to see him tomorrow I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Okay,” she nodded. 

“Goodnight,” he said. 

“Goodnight.”

When he returned to his room finally, he didn’t even make an attempt at working on any of the many stacks of notices and correspondences that were stacked up on his desk and instead made his way towards bed. 

But he couldn’t sleep. And it was the Outsider’s fault. Their conversation earlier was still replaying over and over in his head. It had bothered him, the Outsider, that Corvo covered his mark. And for some reason that seemed to matter. Finally he sighed, sitting up in bed and unwinding the scrap of fabric around his hand in a rush- knowing somehow that would help the thought festering in his head. 

Tossing the wrapping to the floor he allowed himself to lay back down, left hand clasped in his right. He rubbed his thumb over the mark absently, scraping back and forth over the slightly indented edges of it with strange care. Eventually, he fell asleep like that- hands still clasped together. 

His dreams were a blur. There were too many things happening. It was raining, the ocean was somewhere nearby- he could hear it- and wherever he was, the Outsider was there too. His eyes normal, not the solid black they actually were. He had a starfish in his hand, he was casting it back into the ocean. But then he was gone. And so was the ocean. Corvo stood instead on a roof he didn’t recognize, a crow peering at him curiously from a nearby chimney. It cawed at him before flying away. Someone whose face he didn’t see grabbed him, pulling him in close to whisper in his ear. _“You can’t hide.”_ They chuckled. _“Not from me.”_

A loud banging on his door jarred him awake. Corvo laid there a moment, trying to catch his breath. When the banging continued he had to force himself up and out of bed. He didn’t bother putting a shirt on when he answered the door, only barely remembering to cover his hand again. 

It was Sam. His expression changed from dread to concern when he saw Corvo though. “Are you alright, sir?”

“Fine,” he breathed, wiping at the sweat on his forehead. “What do you want?”

Sam hesitated. “Well, there’s a problem.” Corvo waited for him to go on. “The man in the cell downstairs...He’s dead.”

“What?” 

“The baker- Thomas Dane. He seems to have died.” Sam rubbed the back of his head nervously. 

“Well, what the hell happened?” 

“We don't know, Sir. When the guards switched shifts, the one that came down just found him like that. He didn't see anything.”

“Did he hang himself? Slit his wrists? What?”

“He was just dead,” he shrugged a bit sheepishly. 

“Just dead? He had to die of _something_. Nobody just dies.”

“He was old.” Sam said. “Maybe his heart just gave out,” he suggested.

“He was younger than me by eight years.” 

The young man actually flushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Corvo shook his head. “No, you’re right. It’s not out of the realm of possibility, just terribly convenient for him.” He sighed. “Dammit.” Of course the bastard had died. It actually seemed entirely in character. “Alright. We’ll get someone here in the morning to look at him. What’ve you done with the body?”

Sam nodded. “He’s still in the cell. In his bed.”

“Leave him there then,” Corvo said. “And,” he added, “make sure the guard stays down there just in case.” He didn’t want this getting any worse than it already was. 

“Yes, sir. Will that be all?” 

“Until the morning, yes.”

“Goodnight, sir.” Sam bowed slightly. 

“Goodnight, Sam,” he said and shut the door. 

He went to his desk, flicking the lamp on tiredly. He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep now anyway.   
When morning finally came and many of the papers on his desk had been dealt with, he told Sam to have someone go fetch Dr. Hellman since Sokolov had gone- on vacation of all things. Hellman was the next closest though and conveniently one who owed Corvo a favor. “Remind him of that time I found his son at the Cat,” he told Sam before letting him go. 

He opened his door when he heard a knock, expecting it to be Sam again, but it was Wyman. He smiled nervously, all teeth and wide eyes. “Uh, one of the guards told me to tell you that Dr. Hellman is here.”

“Okay.” He frowned. “Thank you...Wyman.” Why was he the one telling him this?

“Yes, umm-”

Corvo sighed. “Okay, what do you want, Wyman?”

“I’m sorry. I, uh, I was kind of hoping for some advice?” Corvo waited for him to go on. “I can’t figure out where to propose to Emily.” He laughed nervously. “I thought maybe the gardens, but then I thought about the beach, but then maybe now isn’t the right time...”

“Stop,” Corvo told him. 

“What?”

“You’re overthinking this,” he sighed. “Just...Do it. You’re working yourself up over nothing. Just ask her.” It's not like she's going to say no because you asked her on a beach instead of by the rose garden, Corvo thought but didn't say. 

“Oh,” Wyman looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe I am. You're right. I'll do it this evening. Get it over with.” He still sounding questioning though. 

Corvo shook his head. “Just ask her, Wyman.” He clapped him on the shoulder and was out the door before he could say anymore. 

The dungeon was small, dark, and damp. As were most dungeons. Corvo made his way there carefully- plenty of people had slipped and broken a bone or two while making their way down the same steps. 

The doctor was already there, seemingly done, as he closed up his medical bag and stood up.

“Well?” Corvo raised an eyebrow as he made his way over. 

“Oh, he’s dead alright,” Dr. Hellman told him, as blunt and obvious as ever. 

Corvo sighed. “We knew that,” he said evenly, _politely_. None of his men were exactly medical professionals, but they did know how to check a pulse. “We want to know _what_ killed him?”

“Probably just his heart.” He shrugged. “I’d have to crack open his chest to know for sure though. But, I don’t think this man is _that_ important, is he?”

“No,” Corvo shook his head. “He’s not, but thank you for coming down, Dr. Hellman.”

“May I ask why he was in your dungeon?” Dr. Hellman looked at Corvo over his glasses questionably.

“We were going to question him about a murder that he probably committed.”

“Good riddance then,” he cast a glance back over at the body, a look of disgust on his face. “But where's the family?”

“She’s an eight year old and she’s upstairs.”

Hellman grimaced. “I hate that, Corvo. I really do.”

“So do I,” Corvo sighed, rubbing his face. 

“Well, if this is all, I suppose I shall be going. You wouldn’t like me to look at that face of yours before I do, would you, Lord Protector?” He chuckled. 

Corvo waved him off. “No. It’s fine, thank you.” When Dr. Hellman had left, he called Sam back over. “Please, take care of this. I have to take care of something else,” he sighed. He had to tell Emily what happened. And then they had to tell Olive. 

Sam nodded. “Right away, Sir.”

Emily was in her office reading, when he found her. “Taking the day off I see, Empress.”

She smiled, “I might-” She stopped, her brows drawing together when she saw him. “Why do you look like you have bad news? You have that look on your face you always have when you have bad news.”

“Thomas Dane is dead.”

She put her book down with a loud bang. “What happened?”

“Hellman says probably his heart,” Corvo threw a hand up. “I don't know, he's dead is the point.”

“Someone has to tell Olive.” Emily's face fell into her hands tiredly. She looked up at him. “What do I say?”

A thought struck him then. “I'll do it,” he told her. “Wyman mentioned wanting to take you somewhere today.”

“Oh,” she pursed her lips. “He didn't mention it, but if you say so. Are you sure you wanna be the one to tell her though?” 

“Yes. You go, have fun,” he smiled. 

She frowned at him. “Um, okay. She’s was the library last I checked.” A pause. “Are you-”

“Yes,” he told her standing up. “I'll see you later then, probably.” He was sure she'd come running the second she could to tell him about Wyman proposing. 

“Wait.” He looked back at her. “What will we do with her now? She can't stay here forever, but we can't send her away.”

“Well, there are-”

“No orphanages.” She glared at him, but then her expression softened. “She's not an orphan. She's got to have other family somewhere,” she told him softly. 

Corvo sighed, sort of seeing where she was coming from there. ‘Orphans’ were almost never really orphans. There was usually family somewhere, in some way or another. “I guess I’ll have to find them then,” he told her. 

She smiled. “Thank you.” 

He left not longer after that, but it was late in the day by the time he stop procrastinating and went to tell Olive the news. He still wasn't sure who felt worse after the conversation. 

After everything was said and done Corvo went back to his own room and out onto the balcony. From there he climbed his way up onto the roof, making his way to a good spot to sit and watch the ocean. It was difficult to reach, but he thought it was worth it for the peace. He had told Emily that he'd see her later, but he couldn't say he particularly felt like seeing _anyone_ right now. 

He closed his eyes when he sat down- the day had been too long, had started too early. And so he didn't notice the wisps of Void that swirled up around him when the Outsider appeared- too lost in thought to even notice the chill that had come with him. In the interest of not startling him, the Outsider spoke softly, “You spend a lot of time on roofs, Corvo.”

Corvo didn’t open his eyes. “And you seem to be spending a lot of time stalking me lately. There a reason for that?” He knew he sounded angry. He knew he had no reason to be. But it was easier to be angry than anything else right now. Especially easy to be angry at him. 

He opened his eyes to look at him, waiting for an answer. “Just curious,” the God smiled and Corvo didn’t miss the double take he did when he saw Corvo’s left hand. 

“You could be curious from the Void,” he said, covering the mark with his other hand. He had uncovered it when he returned to his room. “So, why are you here?” 

The Outsider frowned at him, cocking his head to the side curiously. “Maybe I just thought you needed the company.”

“Do I _look_ like I need company?” 

The Outsider sat down next to him, close enough that Corvo could feel the cold radiating off of him, but he was careful not to bump into him. “Yes,” he answered quietly. “You do.”

Corvo sighed, turning his attention back to the ocean. “Fine,” he said. “Not like I can make you leave anyway.”

Out of the corner of his eye Corvo would swear he saw the Outsider’s smug smile. “No you can’t,” he confirmed. And so they sat there together, neither speaking, watching the ocean and listening to the seagulls that flew overhead. 

It was a long while before the silence broke. The Outsider pulling at his attention, “Look.” He pointed a slender finger towards the garden. 

It was Emily and Wyman walking together and looking at the rose bushes. When Emily turned her back to clip one of the flowers Wyman got down on one knee. When she turned around, she dropped the rose in hand. Wyman was speaking, she had her hand covering her mouth. Corvo didn’t have to read lips to know that she said yes. Wyman hugged her hard enough to lift her off the ground, spinning her around in a circle. 

It was a sweet sight. Enough that it lightened the day just enough to be bearable. 

After they had headed inside Corvo finally spoke. “I had to tell a little girl that her father died today,” Corvo said. “He was a terrible man. Killed her mother. And she still cried. She was still upset.” He shrugged. “And all I could think about was Emily.”

Corvo looked at the Outsider questionly. “What happens when _I’m_ dead? Will she be okay?” He paused to take a breath. “Death has been breathing down my neck for years and it’s never bothered me much, but...”

“She will be okay, Corvo.” A pause. “You've taught her well.”

“Can you promise me that?”

“No.” The Outsider sighed. “I can’t promise you anything, but that is, as they say, life. Things will happen the way they happen. I can’t guarantee you anything because things are ever changing, but I can say that right now, as far as I know, she will be just fine.” He shrugged. “A little worse for wear, but she will get on without you.”

The sun had sank low over the ocean before Corvo got to his feet again. The Outsider rose with him. Corvo moved to go, but stopped, turning back to face the Outsider. “Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Corvo,” was all the God said in reply, disappearing in his usual wispy way. 

Corvo stood there for a long moment, staring at the place he had been before heading on in. It had been a very long day.


	5. (I Know Why He Does It)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing Corvo Attano is curious. He does things sometimes. Things you don't entirely understand the reasons behind. He's a strange man though. And strange men, you've come to know, do strange things. _It's just how things are._

It wasn’t something that should have bothered him. It wasn’t something he wanted to bother him. But it did. It had _irked_ him. He knew why it was necessary, why he needed to do it, but damn if it didn't feel like a slap to the face. 

The thing was though- Corvo had noticed. He had noticed that it bothered him and...fixed it? As best he was able, at least, without repercussions. He had taken it off. But he had still hidden it. From him, the one who gave him the mark in the first place. Had tried to anyway. “Curious,” he commented aloud. “Very curious, indeed.”

The Void, as expected, gave him no reply. Even curiouser though, seemed the man’s apparent realization of his mortality. The Outsider found he didn't like the thought so much himself.


	6. He Believes That I Favor Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing the Outsider is like dreaming. It doesn't make sense more often than not. Dreams never do. It's confusing and you don't understand the half of it. The things that happen, the things you say, the things others say. None of makes sense in retrospect when you wake. But you accept it. Because that's what you do. _It's just how things are._

Breakfast was a short affair that morning, Emily practically dragging him away from his plate as he was eating. He knew why. She wanted to tell him her good news. And he got that, he did, and he wanted her to be happy...but it was a little bothersome that he still had a piece of toast in his hand when she dragged him outside to the garden with Wyman. “Why did we have to come out here? Is there something wrong?” He asked, even though he knew very well there wasn’t.

“For once, no. Not at all,” Emily told him happily, walking a little ways ahead of him towards a bench. “In fact, things are very good.” She sat down, and patted the space beside her. “Come, sit.” He did as asked and sat with her. 

Wyman stood in front of them awkwardly for a moment before clearing his throat and saying, “I think I'll give you two a moment actually.” He nodded to Corvo politely and smiled at Emily. 

Emily watched him go with a small shake of the head before turning to him. Corvo started before she could though, “I take it you have news you want to share?” He smiled, throwing the rest of his toast to a crow that had landed in the grass nearby. It cawed back at him softly, almost as if in thanks, before snatching up the food and taking flight. 

“Yes.” Emily grinned, taking his hand in hers and gripping it tight. “Wyman proposed.” 

“Congratulations.” He squeezed her hand back and nodded to Wyman. “He got very worked up- good to know I didn't give him bad advice.”

Emily laughed. “Oh. Oh, good...You knew then. You are okay with it then?” She looked up at him expectantly. 

He smiled, wrapping an arm around her. “As long as you're happy, I'm happy.” He kissed the top of her head. “And if you aren’t, I’ll shove a sword between his ribs for you,” he joked lightly (and only meant it a little), pointing a finger at Wyman across the yard.

“You’re terrible,” Emily told, but still smiled back at him. After a moment, she pointed up to the roof, “I saw you sitting up there the other evening actually.” She smiled. “I thought you had left before he proposed though.” Emily giggled. “I wasn't going to tell him though because he hates when I go up there. Probably best to not tell him where I got the idea from.”

Corvo chuckled. “It made your mother nervous, too.”

Emily frowned. “What? She was never around for me climbing roofs.”

“No, _me_ ,” he said. “I made her nervous.” He laughed, thinking about about the many scoldings he had received- not unlike the ones he got from Emily now. “She absolutely loathed it. Said it made her afraid for my life and she didn’t want to replace me. Really, she just hated heights though, ” he chuckled. The truth...had been a little more sentimental actually, but it was what she had liked to say. She complained about him to anyone who would listen. And not a soul had believed her to be heartfelt about it. The brave ones poked fun at her expense, teasing her about liking him. Wisely, he had always kept his own mouth shut. 

Emily smiled. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told you?” He frowned. “Huh. Well, she did. She hated heights. I tried to get her up there with me a time or two and she’d always scream bloody murder, saying that I was going to be the death of her. ” Corvo laughed. 

“Do you think she would have liked Wyman?” Emily asked suddenly, stopping to turn to look at him. 

“I think, if you love him, she would have too,” he said.“Unless of course he didn’t, in which case she might just help me shove that sword through his ribs.” He smiled. 

Emily laughed shaking her head. “You’re terrible,” she repeated. “Absolutely terrible.” She leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh. “I appreciate the offer though.”

He kissed the top of her head again. “I love you, you know that?”

She smiled, eyes darting up to meet his. “I love you, too.” A pause. “We probably don't say that enough, you know,” she laughed. 

“I think we both know it by now.”

“No harm in reminding each other though.”

“No. No, you're right. No harm.”

Emily sighed, standing up. “We have to go tell Wyman’s parents now, you know,” she told him. “I don't think they're going to be quite as happy as you are.” She rolled her eyes. “I'm an Empress for god’s sake, you'd think they'd be thrilled.”

“Should I...come meet them?” Corvo ventured halfheartedly. He didn’t want to, but if Emily did then he’d do it. Albeit, a bit begrudgingly, but he'd do it. 

“ _Oh, no_ ,” Emily shook her head decidedly, placing a hand on her father’s shoulder to stop him from getting up with her. “They actually hate you. Or so I've been told.” Corvo arched an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know why,” she shrugged. “Wyman didn’t say much about it. I think he was worried about offending me. But yes, they do not like you at all.”

Corvo scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “I haven't met them already, have I?” He had been known to...rub people the wrong way. He wasn't sure how; most of the people he rubbed the wrong way were people he had never talked to in the first place. 

Emily shrugged. “I doubt it. Might have something to do with...you know…rumors though.” Her eyes flickered down to his hand. 

“Ah.” Corvo nodded, his other hand automatically coming to cover his marked one. “That makes sense.” Rumors about his hand- about his relationship with the Outsider- had caused trouble more than once. And by people far worse than Wyman’s parents. It wasn't terribly surprising anymore. 

“Don't worry about it,” she smiled reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. “I certainly don't.”

Corvo snorted. Emily never had. At every accusation thrown at him she has always brushed them aside- not even bothering to give them any of her time. It worried him as much as it made him proud. “Maybe you should,” Corvo told her. He didn't have a reputation to ruin; she did though. And people had often taken note at her lack of concern over the talk of her father. 

“Maybe,” she agreed, dropping her hands tiredly. “But no matter what others think- I know you're a good man.”

Corvo hummed, deciding not voice his own opinion on the matter. “I'm going to go talk to Olive,” he told her instead. “See, if I can do something about finding her family.”

“Oh, good,” she nodded, seeming pleased. “I'll see you at dinner though?” 

“I’ll try my best.”

“That doesn't sound like a yes.”

“It is.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I'll see you later, Father.” She waved over her shoulder as she turned to go. “And take some food to Olive. She didn't show up for breakfast,” she called back. 

That actually wasn't a bad idea now that she mentioned it, he thought. She was probably hungry. And if she wasn't, well- it was still a decent idea. He went to stand, but stopped suddenly when he saw the crow had come back. Why it stayed him, he wasn't sure, but he watched it until it flew away again before getting up and heading to the kitchen. 

At this time of day there were few in the kitchen. Only Holly was there, taking some sort of bread out of the oven as he walked in. 

When she saw him she paused only briefly before setting the pan down on the counter between them. “Hello, Corvo darling,” Holly smiled across at him. “It's been awhile since you've been in my kitchen. What can I do for you?” She brushed her grey curls back out of her face. Holly had been the head chef of Dunwall Tower longer than he had been the Royal Protector and she had never called him by his former title once. She insisted that he was too young for her to call him anything but his name or- her preferred nickname, ‘Darling’.

“I was hoping to borrow some food, Miss Holly.” In return- he refused to call her anything but ‘Miss Holly’. They had been at it for twenty some years now- it was a nice game. 

“Well,” she said evenly, looking down at the rolls in her pan. “I think I could fix you up. If you could wait a moment that is.” She looked at him skeptically, hands on her hips 

“Of course,” he told her. “Take your time.” Not like he was ever actually busy anyway. 

“I'll get you something else to go with the bread,” she told him, shuffling past him and out the swinging doors to the pantry. 

Poking around a little, he picked up an apple, taking a bite out of it. “When did you become a thief, Corvo?” The Outsider asked, hovering behind him close enough he could feel his breath on the back of his neck. 

“For fuck’s-” He swore, knocking over a, thankfully empty, pan that had been set aside as well as dropping his apple. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Corvo hissed at the god, picking up the tray. 

“Oh,” The Outsider said, looking offended, “I dearly hope not.”

“Are you alright in there, darling?” Holly called and he could hear her coming back towards the kitchen. 

Corvo gave the Outsider a pointed look. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Later then.” And he disappeared in his little cloud of Void as silently as he had appeared. 

“Corvo?” Holly asked again, standing in the doorway now. 

“Fine,” he answered. “Fine. Just knocked something over is all.” He waved her away. She frowned at him, handing over a fairly heavy looking basket to him.

“Let me put the bread in there,” she said. “And you can...Do whatever it is you're doing.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you,” he told her awkwardly, taking the basket from her. It was as heavy as it looked. Did she think he was planning on feeding an army?

“Come visit again soon,” she told him before he could get out the door good. 

“I will,” he promised, stopping at the door. “Thank you again, Miss Holly.” 

The library was even quieter than the kitchen had been. And rather than smelling like baked goods, it smelled like old books. Which- wasn't a bad smell necessarily, but the former did hold a bit more appeal. 

Corvo found her sitting alone in a corner of the library, on one of the reading couches. She didn't look terribly interested in her book though. “Olive,” he said quietly so as not startle her. She looked up at him, a deep frown etched into her face. “I brought food,” he told her, setting the basket of food on the table in front of her. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, though made no move to even touch it. 

“I see you found the library.” Corvo sat down next to her. 

“Someone brought me here.” She shrugged. “They said they couldn't watch me all day.”

“Oh.” He frowned. He would have to tell Emily about that. They couldn't really just leave her alone all the time. Even in the library. “Have you met our archivist?” He looked around to see if the woman was anywhere around. Ginger was usually around somewhere in the library doing this or that- very rarely was she found her actual office. 

“Miss Ginger?”

He nodded. “That’s her. She’s in charge of the library.”

She held up her book for him to see. “She gave me this.” He hummed. “I don't like it though. There aren't any princesses.”

“Well, that's a real shame,” he tried to smile at her, but dropped it when she just stared at him blankly. He sighed. “I came to talk to you about your family, Olive.”

She looked away from him, staring back down at her book. “Dead.”

The reply shocked him. “Ye- That's.” He stopped and sighed again. “Not your mother and your father,” he explained. “The others. Maybe aunts or uncles? Grandparents? Do you know any of them?”

She shrugged. “My aunt...My aunt has a bakery too. We got flour from her sometimes. She’s real nice, but she always pinched my cheeks.”

“So, she lives in Dunwall?” That was good news at least. 

Olive nodded. “I don’t remember where though.” She looked guilty for a moment, her hands fidgeting idly with the pages of her book. 

“It's okay,” he told her. “It's okay. Do you know her name?” 

“Aunt Dane?”

Of course. “Anyone else?”

Olive shrugged. “There’s Grandma...” She frowned, “She’s not very nice though.”

“Right,” he sighed, rubbing at his jaw. “I'm going to go talk to Miss Ginger. Why don’t you eat something,” he tapped a finger on the basket. “And I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“I...would rather be alone,” she told him. “If that’s okay?” 

He knew the feeling. “Yeah,” he nodded to her. “That's fine. Just please eat something, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed easily. 

“Alright, I'll see you later.” He tried to ruffle her hair when he stood up, but she ducked away. He realized it had been a bad idea immediately. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Goodbye, Corvo.”

He left her then, not wanting to bother her anymore, but didn't leave the library. Weaving his way through the bookshelves, he searched for the curator, who was sure to be somewhere nearby. When he found her she was staring at a particular shelf of books, hands on her hips and determination in her eyes. Upon seeing him though, she smiled. As she always did.

“Lord Protector,” Ginger said, looking downright surprised to see him. “It’s been awhile since you’ve wandered to my part of the castle.” Ginger grinned at him happily though. 

“Second time I've heard that today,” he told her. He tried not to sound terribly dry about it though; he didn't want to rain on her cheerfulness. She was one of the few in the castle who still bothered to plaster a smile on her face. And like Miss Holly, they were fairly familiar with each other. They might have been friends if he ever bothered to have any. Considering that only lead to disaster- he tried not to. “I’m not here to visit though. I have some question I think you can answer.”

Ginger smiled at him. _“Lay it on me, Attano,”_ she told him and giggled, her cheeks going red. 

He shook his head at her. “Don’t say that,” he deadpanned, but kept going. “Can you tell me how many bakeries are there in Dunwall? Or at least have the locations of all of them? ”

She held up one finger at him, turning to the shelves behind her and reaching up high, selecting a book carefully and opening it up between them. “Let me see,” she hummed, thumbing through the book. “Lucky you the addresses are listed with them already,” she tapped the page so he would look as well. “Ah, looks like 1,784.” She smiled, turning the book toward him. “And,” she added, “There are 1,243 banks.” 

“That’s a lot, Ginger.”

She gave him a level look. “What are you actually looking for, Corvo?”

“A little girl’s aunt. She owns a bakery somewhere in Dunwall.”

“You could narrow it down by last names,” Ginger suggested, sliding the book across to him. “But, I have my own work to do.” She paused. “Do me a favor, Corvo. Return that book the way it is now- in one piece.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Wouldn’t happen to have a map of Dunwall I could borrow as well, would you?”

She gave him a lopsided grin. “So demanding, you are.” Ginger laughed lightly, the sound a bit shrill in the near silent library. “There are some behind my desk.”

“Thank you, Ginger,” he said. “I owe you.”

Ginger snorted. “You already owe me,” she informed him, already walking away. “Remember you agreed on a date the last time. Still haven’t invited me to dinner though.” She laughed again, waving goodbye to him. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

Damn, he had forgotten about that. But she was gone before he could even apologize. 

It was sad too. He really did like Ginger. He thought about going after her, but settled for collecting the things he needed instead. He would settle that debt later, he supposed. 

The Outsider was already waiting for him by the time he had climbed his way onto the roof with his two books. One- the book that held the list of all the bakeries in Dunwall- and two- his own notebook so he could copy down the addresses he needed. 

“The roof again, Corvo?” The god questioned, pacing along the peak of the roof. 

“Yes, I used to like it because it was quiet, but,” he cast a only half-hearted glared over at the Outsider as he sat down, “There’s been a lot of noise here lately.”

“Seagulls tend to be that way I hear.” He waved a hand at the ones flying overhead. “Surprising they haven’t bothered you before.”

Corvo snorted. “Anybody ever tell you that you’re kind of an ass?” 

“They usually go with _‘black-eyed bastard’_ , but yes,” he said and smirked. He was always so amused by that it seemed. Which in turn Corvo couldn’t help but find terribly interesting- because if he really were the villain people tried to call him, he wouldn’t have been so forgiving of the insults they hurled at him. Corvo just hummed though, cracking open his book and trying not to think too hard about the complexity of the Outsider’s morals. 

“What are you doing?” The god asked curiously, looking pointedly at the books in his hand.

“Making a list.” He didn’t look up as he flipped through the pages, trying to find the one Ginger had showed him. “My best attempts at trying to find a little girl’s remaining family.”

“How valiant,” the god replied, sounding just a touch snide. He sat down beside Corvo, almost leaning against Corvo trying to peer over at the words he had begun to write. 

It was all enough to agitate Corvo just the right amount. “Why don't you ever go bother Daud sometime?” He asked snapping the book closed and glaring at the god. “Surely I am not the only person you have to annoy.”

“He isn't nearly as interesting.” The Outsider laughed, clearly entertained by Corvo’s outburst. “ _And_ he calls me a black-eyed bastard.”

“Can't say that I blame him,” Corvo mumbled, standing up. He was obviously not going to find any peace here today. 

“Oh, what can I say Corvo, you are just so much more fun than the others.”

“So, I _am_ your favorite.” He started making his way back down towards the window to go inside. 

“I don't have favorites,” he said, though they both knew it was a weak defense. It was no real secret he had favorites. His marks were enough proof of that. 

“You know, the fact that you're here might say otherwise,” he couldn't help but point out. 

“Well if I weren't here, I’d be missing all the fun, wouldn't I?” The Outsider had already seated himself comfortably in his chair, sitting with his legs drawn up and crisscrossed under him. 

“Is that why you’re here?” Corvo hissed, putting his things down on his desk with maybe just a little too much force. “Are you waiting for disaster to strike?” He asked. “Cause if that’s it, a warning might be nice for once.”

“No. Not at all.” He shook his head. “It's not that, Corvo.” He stood up, looking as perturbed as Corvo felt. 

“Then why? Just tell me,” Corvo said. “You've been hanging around for days. And you never show up without a good, entertaining reason. So, what do you want?” He asked, feeling entirely uncertain about whatever was going on here. 

“Nothing, Corvo,” the Outsider insisted. “Nothing at all.” He paced around for a second, looking a bit confused himself, Corvo’s eyes never leaving him. Finally, the Outsider sighed. “I’ll leave,” he said, scrubbing at his black eyes tiredly. “Just….don't do anything…” he trailed off, obviously unable to come up with the right word. Corvo raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Life endangering?” He ventured. 

“...Okay,” Corvo agreed slowly, not even sure why he was having to assure the god of such a thing. Usually, he was all for the opposite. Safety wasn't any fun. 

“Thank you,” the god told him, sounding truly relieved, but wasted no more time slipping back into the Void and leaving Corvo alone. 

He paced for a moment, looking between his desk and the balcony- considering his options. Deciding he was too agitated now to sit down, he went towards the balcony. He'd finishing making the list of bakeries owned by Danes later. 

For now...he needed a walk. And maybe to smoke. No- definitely. He definitely needed to smoke. Emily had taken away his pipe though, he'd have to bum a cigarette off a guard on his way out. 

Going down from the balcony it didn't take long to get to the ground and make his way around the castle. 

He asked for a cigarette from the first guard he encountered. They seem surprised, whether about his sudden appearance or the fact that he smoked, Corvo couldn't really tell, but nonetheless, the guard gave him one. He even offered to light it for him. Corvo nodded. 

“Thank you,” he told them, letting out a small puff of smoke before continuing on his way. 

Really, he preferred a pipe but cigarettes were relatively easier to deal with. Especially when you had told your daughter you stopped smoking and she took your pipe from you. He took another drag from the cigarette. 

_‘Just...don't do anything...life endangering.’_ The words itched at Corvo as he walked. What the hell did that even mean? Why did the Outsider care if he did things that would endanger his life? 

Long after his cigarette had burnt out and a good while of aimless walking he found himself back at the Dane’s bakery. He shrugged, opening up the door (subtly forcing the lock open). He would need a picture of Olive anyway and he could take one of the ones he saw before. 

Walking in he saw that things were exactly as he had left them. He went through the house slowly, moving through the dining room to the den. 

Staring at the table as he passed Corvo belatedly realized that he had missed dinner. He sighed. Smoking _and_ missing dinner, he was on a roll. With a small shake of the head he continued to get the photo of Olive. Picking up the only photo that Olive was smiling in- her mother was hugging her from behind, he slid it out of frame and into his pocket. 

With the rest of the bakery- or house- whichever, having nothing else to offer him, he left swiftly after that. It was getting late, he needed to make his way home anyway. 

He came back in the way he had left. He nodded to the guard who had given him the cigarette and made his way up to his balcony. Probably only further confusing the man, but he was certainly past the point of caring. 

Sitting down tiredly at his desk, he closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. If he sat for long enough he would go to sleep he knew, another thing he was past the point of caring about. 

“You concerned me,” the Outsider’s voice came out of nowhere. 

Corvo didn’t open his eyes, somehow unsurprised by the god’s return. “What does that mean?” 

“I was concerned, Corvo.” Corvo looked then. The Outsider’s was standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed tightly and mouth drawn up into a deep scowl. “About you,” he said and it sounded like he hated it. Like he absolutely loathed the words coming out of his mouth. Even so, he continued, “You almost died. _That_ is why I am here.”

“Would you have missed me?” Corvo asked sarcastically, setting his elbow down on his desk and propping up his head on the side of his fist. It figured that the Outsider would have been concerned about losing his favorite entertainment. 

“Yes.” He was dead serious. 

Corvo stopped then. “Oh.” 

“I wanted to see that you were okay after…” 

“I am...alright though,” Corvo told him.

The Outsider wasn’t looking at him, staring instead down at the floor. “I know.”

“Then-”

“I _know_ , Corvo.” The Outsider looked at him then. Finally. His eyes were hard when he spoke. “I don’t know why I’m here either. I just feel like I should be.” He shrugged. “ _Need_ to be,” the god amended after a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air between them.

They stayed there for a moment, only looking at each other. “Alright,” Corvo said eventually. He nodded, watching the Outsider’s reaction. Or lack thereof actually. Even so, Corvo continued. “Fine.” He shrugged. “Fine. You can stay.”

The Outsider’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?” 

“You can stick around,” he shrugged again. “If it makes you...feel better. You can stick around.” He closed his eyes again, feeling exhausted down to his very bones. When he opened them again, a new question on the edge of his lips, he discovered he was alone yet again.


	7. (I Do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing Corvo Attano is like figuring out a puzzle. You like puzzles. Could never leave them alone. And the more you know about them, the more time you spend on them, the more determined you become to figure them out. You think maybe you'll never figure him out. Not entirely. You find you're okay with that. _It's just how things are._

Corvo was right. He did have favorites. Or at least the one. It was...Almost frustrating how sure he had seemed of the fact actually. Perhaps, he wasn’t as subtle as he had previously thought. The fact was though, he knew he favored Corvo- that wasn't a mystery, it was that he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

He didn’t know why he felt this almost uncontrollable urge to watch over him now. To be around him. It was entirely unnecessary and they both knew it. But it felt like he should be there. He had saved his life, there was something about that, something that had been triggered when he did that. Whatever it was, it was pulling at his him, keeping him coming back. He didn't know what it was, what had piqued his interested exactly, but he knew it was something unique only to Corvo Attano. He just didn't know what _it_ was. 

Corvo had seemed to understand though. That he wasn’t there to antagonize him, that he really didn't know exactly why he kept popping up out of nowhere either. That at least, gave him a little comfort. He had never had any intentions of bother the man, just see to it that he was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!!!! <3


	8. He Tries To Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for the Outsider is slow. So slow you don't even realize what's happening until it’s happened. And you want to kick yourself for it. Even as only a notion, it is ridiculous. It's like some sort of cruel cosmic joke. Mostly because it surprised you- you let it creep up on you. How did that happen? _You take a deep breath, hoping you're wrong._

He had narrowed it down to thirty-seven people. Thirty-seven bakeries, actually. Thirty-seven dots on a map. Unfortunately, all thirty-seven dots were going to have to be visited by him and him alone; there had been no volunteers to help and there was still work to be done so he couldn't steal anyone away. He was on his own. Not that he minded, truly. It was the way he preferred things, but he could already feel his feet aching from all the walking he was going to have to do.

“Are you staring at that map on the wall for a reason, Corvo?” a voice came from behind him. 

“You know, I'm starting to think you just like seeing me without clothes on,” Corvo told the Outsider absently, not turning around. He had just gotten up, he hadn’t bothered to find a shirt yet. He hasn’t thought he had needed one, truthfully. “And yes, actually,” he said, pocketing the bone charm the Outsider had given him as he turned around. He found he rather liked it- it fit in his hand easily and it gave him something to fiddle with when his hands weren't otherwise occupied. It was...nice.

Snatching a shirt off the floor and pulling it over his head, he noticed that the god was leafing through the things on Corvo’s desk- an activity he seemed to enjoy far too much. “It's not a bad view, certainly.” The Outsider smiled fondly over at him. Which- he pointedly ignored. 

Corvo did not ask what he wanted this time. He knew there wasn’t an answer. Even if the Outsider had wanted to say. It was just one of those things you had to do sometimes, even if they didn’t make sense. There wasn’t a reason for it- it was just a feeling. Corvo understood that. Instead, he asked, “Feel like keeping me company today?” The Outsider’s head snapped up. “You’ll have to keep your head down of course, but…” He shrugged, slipping his coat on. “You can come with me... If you’d like,” he added quietly. 

The Outsider took a moment, as if he actually had to consider the offer, then said, “Where are we going?”

“First the kennels.” The Outsider made a face. “What?” He asked as he began taking the map off the wall. 

The god shrugged. “Dogs are disgusting creatures.” He wrinkled his nose. “And don’t like me besides.”

“Somehow that's not surprising,”Corvo said, then continued, “After the kennels, bakeries. Lots of bakeries.” He folded up the map, carefully slipping it into his pocket so it wouldn’t get any more bent- Ginger would be wanting it back as well as the book. 

“It’s raining,” the Outsider noted, nodding towards the window. “You'll be sick.” He sounded concerned. Again. Corvo’s eyes flickered to him briefly, searching for sincerity, but they returned back to his desk quickly when he actually found it. Best not to think about it. 

“So you’ve said before,” Corvo told him, snatching the scarf Emily had made him so long ago from the drawer in his desk. “If it makes you feel better- I’ll wear this.” He smiled at the Outsider as he pointedly wrapped the scarf around his neck. It was a bright crimson color and far too long, but it was warm if nothing else. And maybe a little bit sentimental. Emily had dyed the yarn herself before knitting it into the mess it was now. She wasn’t very good at it, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. 

The Outsider shook his head at him. “You’re _still_ going to be sick.”

Feeling brave, Corvo slung an arm around the god’s shoulders. “Maybe, but I still have to go, so come on.” He pulled him along with him as they walked. “Look on the bright side-”

“I reside in the _Void_ , Corvo,” he interjected dryly. _“There is no bright side.”_

Corvo continued nonetheless, “At least _you_ won’t get sick.” He grinned and the Outsider just sighed at him. He ruffled the god’s hair before releasing him. “Come on, I gotta knock on someone’s door before we head out anyway.” He brought the Outsider with him through the castle, knowing no one would be up to catch sight of them at this time in the morning while all the guards would be in between shifts and no one else awake. 

Well, no one would see the Outsider. Sam would be seeing Corvo if he would just come to the damn door. Corvo knocked again and waited patiently for Sam to answer. The Outsider made a sort of snorting noise from where he stood down the hall when Corvo knocked a third time, louder this time. 

The door opened so suddenly, he almost ended up hitting Sam in the face. “Oh,” he answered the door, a sort of shocked look on his face. He didn’t speak for a long moment. Perhaps embarrassed by the fact that he had answered the door to him in his underwear. “Lord Protector,” Sam said finally, closing his open mouth, a blush rising to his cheeks. “I-I...Is there something you need, sir?”

“You're to be with Emily today,” Corvo told him, pretending he didn’t notice the previous staring...Or the blush. “And, the rest of the week actually. I'll probably be busy.”

“Oh,” Sam nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be on that. Not to worry.”

Corvo nodded. “I'll check in with you when I get back. And Sam,” he said, half stepping away already. 

“Yes?”

“Put some clothes on before you see my daughter today.” He gestured to Sam’s mostly naked body. He would have thought since he took so long to answer the door, he would have at least been fully clothed. 

“Oh.” He blushed even deeper. “Yes, sir.” He nodded, closing the door shyly. 

Corvo shook his head, moving on already. He waved the Outsider along with him when he passed. Now that that was done, they could be on their way. The rain had stopped for the time being at least so that was at least one good thing. As they walked Corvo noticed the Outsider was struggling a bit to keep up though, so he slowed his pace. Whether he was slowed down by his shorter legs or by the fact that he’s probably wasn’t used to walking instead of floating, Corvo couldn't quite say, but the Outsider didn’t complain even when he did fall behind. 

He did have a rather deep scowl plastered on his thoughtful face as they went though. “Do I want to know what you’re frowning so hard about over there?” He finally asked when they got out onto the streets and away from anyone who could hear them. He had to know what, if anything, was wrong or it would bother him all day. 

The Outsider shrugged. “It’s nothing. I just don’t care for your friend back there.”

“Who, Sam?” Corvo raised an eyebrow. “Why? Should I be concerned?” He’d had enough of people turning on him in the past to not trust anyone too much anymore, but did like to know if his paranoia was justified. 

The god merely sighed. “No, Corvo,” he told him flatly, waving a hand at the question. “It’s nothing you need concern yourself over. I dislike him for my own reasons, I assure you.”

“Uh-huh,” Corvo hummed, watching the little wisps of Void that had come off of him in the sudden movement float past his eyes. “Sure. Nothing strange about that,” he said. “I thought you didn’t take sides though. Of anything. ”

“Well, you’re getting a dog all of a sudden- nothing strange about that either, I’m sure,” he rolled his dark eyes and completely avoiding the question Corvo had half posed to him. He didn’t sound terribly pleased by the dog thing either. Corvo wondered exactly why it was he disliked dogs so much, but didn’t ask. 

“No,” Corvo said instead. “Emily. Emily is getting a dog,” he explained. “She always wanted one when she was small so…” He shrugged, trailing off. _Better late than never._

“Why didn’t you get here a dog when she was a child then?”

“Well, there were some other things going on at the time if you didn’t notice.” Corvo rolled his eyes. “Like kidnapping...Her mother dying...Not to mention having to rule an entire empire at the age of thirteen,” Corvo told him humorlessly. “I can't say getting her a dog was the first thing on my mind at the time.”

“My mistake,” the Outsider laughed softly, lightening up a little. “But why now though?”

“A wedding gift.” Corvo shrugged. 

“Of all the things…” 

“As I said before, she always wanted a dog.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

The god just hummed in response. No more words about dogs or strange dislikes came up- a comforting quiet settling between them as they walked. 

Corvo stopped a little ways before they got to the kennels. “You wait here,” he said, looking down at the Outsider. “Since you don't like dogs so much.” He smiled. 

The Outsider gave Corvo a little annoyed huff, crossing his arms. “Fine, but if it starts to rain, I’m leaving.”

“If you say so.” Corvo half laughed, amused by the other man. He was a strange one certainly, but still so terribly human sometimes. 

The kennels were drier than he remembered. And quieter. Still smelled like dogs though. Where exactly were all the dogs, he wondered. “Oh, hello there,” a man greeted him, coming into the foyer through a swinging door. “I’m sorry, I was out back letting the dogs out before it starts raining again. Something I can help you-” he stopped mid-sentence, frowning. “You’re-”

“Corvo Attano, yeah.” He nodded, waving him away. There wasn't anything anyone could say about his reputation anymore that he hadn’t heard. 

A look of dawning passed over his burly face. “Oh, right. Uhh, well I'm Cecil. I uh, keep all the mutts around here,” he said. “But...I guess you know that.” He smiled awkwardly. “What can I do for you, Lord Protector?”

“I need a dog.” One might have thought that obvious. No one really went to the kennels for any other reasons. 

“Well, if you’re looking for a good working dog, Lord Protector, I've got -”

“It's not for me,” Corvo stopped him before he could get any further. “It's a gift for the Empress.”

“I see,” he said, scratching at his jaw. “What sort of dog is she looking for then?”

“A puppy actually. And I'm looking for something friendly, other than that it doesn’t really matter.” He had had a dog once. When he was young and still lived in Karnanca. It had a been a mutt, there was no doubt in his mind- he had found it on the street. It had been sick and almost died the first night, but had managed to pull through. And then...Then it had turned out to be the sweetest, friendliest creature he had ever known. It lived the rest of its days spoiled rotten too. Everyone had loved that damned dog. Including himself. 

“Is size a problem?” Cecil asked, smiling like he already had something in mind. 

“...No,” Corvo answered slowly. “I suppose not.” 

“I’ve got just the pup then.” He turned, waving Corvo along with him as he pushed open that swinging door again. “Come on. I'll even let you hold the little guy.”

They went through a short hallway before going into a small room that held only a large wooden box on the floor. Cecil pulled out what could have been easily mistaken as nothing but a ball of black fuzz with a tail. 

He dumped the furry little thing into his arms gently. “Last of the litter. Runt,” the man shrugged. “Not a bad dog at all. Real friendly like you wanted.”

A tail wagged furiously against his arm, big eyes looking up at him. He smiled. “How old is it?” 

“Oh, ‘bout nine weeks. All his brothers and sister are gone though. If you don't want ‘em, he's mine.”

The puppy wriggled in his arms, biting down on his thumb- sharp little teeth digging into his skin, though not so badly that he pulled away. “Does he have a name?” Corvo asked, but he knew he was already sold. He had a soft spot for dogs and this one was too sweet. 

“Not yet.” Cecil smiled, already knowing as well as Corvo did that he would be taking his runt right off his hands.“But I’m sure the Empress could figure something out.”

“Yes,” Corvo agreed. “I suppose she could.” He scratched behind the pups ears gently, enjoying the reaction he got. “Only thing is, I don't have anywhere to keep him until I can give him to the Empress.”

“I could bring him down whenever you need,” the other man offered. “Or just come get him the day you need him. No harm in keeping him here a while longer.” He shrugged. 

“Alright, I'll just come get him then,” he nodded. “Thank you.”

Cecil smiled. “So long as he's treated right.”

“Oh, I'm sure he'll be spoiled by everyone in Dunwall Tower.” That was almost a guarantee actually. 

“With that face?” Cecil laughed, putting a hand on top of the pups head. “I'm sure.” He took him from Corvo’s arms and back into the box on the floor. 

“Sure I can't interest _you_ in a dog, Lord Protector?” Cecil asked. 

“No,” he shook his head. “Thank you, but I think that one will be enough.” He thanked him again for the puppy before leaving. 

It wasn't raining when he got outside, but he still couldn't find the Outsider. He stopped when he found him standing in an alleyway. “Really?” Corvo raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

Corvo pointed to the wall he leaned against, where the words _‘The Outsider Walks Among Us’_ had been painted some time ago. “Oh,” he looked down at the graffiti and smiled mischievously. “Yes, well, it’s quite apt today, isn’t it? Since I literally am.”

“Sure,” Corvo shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile too. The Outsider was far too pleased by his own jokes. It was...endearing somehow. “Come on then,” he waved the god forward with him. 

The streets were mostly empty. The rain kept everyone with good sense inside. What few people they saw were staring though. And staring hard. And it was because of the Outsider. Corvo had told him to keep his head down earlier and he was, of course, doing the exact opposite. Looking people right in the eye as they passed. Throwing out a grim smile every now and then that people would gasp at. “Stop doing that,” Corvo hissed at him. “Damn.” He shook his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me. Do you _want_ them to know who you are?”

The Outsider laughed, sounding purely delighted at Corvo’s distress over the matter. “Do you think the eyes give me away?” He chuckled. 

“Yes.”

He laughed again at Corvo’s deadpan answer. “Nothing will come of it,” he said, trying to soothe him a bit. “You’d be surprised how often people would rather convince themselves they didn't see me, than believe I exist at all. They’ll all convince themselves my eyes were a trick of the light or some other ridiculous notion later. I wouldn’t worry about it .”

“What color were they? Before,” Corvo said suddenly without thinking. The Outsider quirked an eyebrow at him. “Your eyes.” Corvo sighed. “Nevermind.” He didn't even know why he asked. His curiosity had spoken for him that time he supposed. He didn't notice when Outsider frowned at him.

Only silence passed between them for a long while, the god keeping pace with Corvo’s long strides as they walked now. “Green,” the Outsider said softly. “My eyes were green.”

Corvo stopped. Unable to help but look at him and try to picture it, replace the Void with something simpler- something normal. Something the color of glass tumbled by the oceans, maybe. Or darker, like seaweed. Green was an easy fit though. He thought it would have suited him. 

The Outsider looked back at him, completely unflinching under Corvo’s gaze. He raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for him to say something. 

Finally, breaking the silence between them, for lack of something better to tell the other man, Corvo said, “Here, you can make yourself useful and read the map.” He held the folded sheet of paper out to him. 

“What an honor,” the Outsider told him sarcastically, but still smirked as he took it from him without hesitation. He hummed, unfolding the map. “There are quite a lot of X’s here, Corvo. How would you like to proceed?”

“Whatever is closest.” Corvo shrugged. If he had really cared he would have been doing this himself. At any rate, he doubted how they did this would matter all that much. “Unless,” He said. “You actually know which one of those X’s will lead to finding Olive’s family.”

“I do not actually,” the Outsider said and began walking. “They are as random to me as they are to you.”

Corvo sighed dramatically. “You know, for someone who's supposed to be all powerful, you don't actually seem to know all that much.”

His eyes flashed up to Corvo’s as he refolded the map. “I know what I can see and hear, Corvo, the same as anyone. It just so happens that I can see and hear more than the average person.”

Huh. That was news. “Interesting,” Corvo told him. “You'll have to tell me how all that works sometime.” 

The Outsider snorted. “Just keep walking. We turn right at the end of this street.” After a long while of walking, Corvo never questioning the directions given, the Outsider asked, “What are you thinking about?” 

Corvo cast a curious glance over at him, but his face gave nothing away. He shrugged, “I’m thinking ‘I can’t believe that asshole’s heart gave out and now I have to walk who knows how far around Dunwall looking for a twelve year old girl’s extended family’.”

The Outsider frowned at him. “There was nothing wrong with that man's heart. He poisoned himself,” he said. “Did you not know that?”

“What?”

“The ‘asshole’ you are referring to. It wasn’t his heart. He poisoned himself,” the Outsider explained. “You forgot to check one of his inside pockets. He took a poison that was meant for someone else.”

Stunned, all Corvo could think to say was, “Dr. Hellman is absolutely useless.” He shook his head. “Thanks for telling me at least.”

The Outsider continued, “That's how he killed people whose name he was given. No one ever suspected.” He smiled. “But no one ever suspects poison, do they, _Corvo_?”

Corvo glared at him then. “Something you’d like to say to me?” 

“Poison is a terrible way to go,” he shrugged. “Usually because it's given to you by someone you trust- as you well know. But, perhaps it wasn’t so bad for him. He knew what was coming.”

“I really don’t care whether he went peacefully or not,” Corvo said. “The bastard killed himself cause he didn’t want to go to prison for killing his wife and beating his daughter. Not exactly the most upstanding citizen.”

The Outsider laughed. “That’s a little dark, don’t you think, Corvo?” He pulled back on Corvo’s elbow. “The bakery,” he pointed to the building. 

“No,” Corvo said, stopping already. “Dark would have been me killing him instead.”

“I think we both know that’s not your style.” He let go of Corvo’s arm. 

Corvo laughed. No, he was right, probably not his style, but if he knew then what he knew now he might just have been tempted. “Right well, you sit tight here,” he patted the god on the shoulder. 

“Good luck,” the god told him. Corvo just nodded, pushing his way into the bakery, leaving the Outsider there on the street alone. 

They owners were obviously twins. They had the exact same eyes, same hair, same nose- same face really. They had to be twins. They both smiled at him. “What can we help you with, sir?”

He held out the photo of Olive. “Do you know this girl?”

The two of them both cocked their heads to the side, frowning as they examined the picture together. “I don’t think so,” the woman said. “Have you?” She asked, turning to her brother. 

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He looked back up at Corvo. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m looking for her family.”

“She doesn't know who they are?”

“It's complicated,” he sighed. 

He left shortly after that, the two having nothing more to share with him. He went out and found the Outsider, but didn't stop. 

“Well?” The Outsider pushed himself off the brick wall, falling in step with him easily. 

Corvo shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Onward then,” he said, sounding surer than Corvo felt. 

“Where?” 

“To the end of this street and take a right,” the Outsider answered without taking out the map again. 

“You’re on top of things, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“You-” And just as the word left his mouth, it began to rain. And not just a little. It had begun to pour. Corvo signed up at the sky, cold little droplets pelting his face harshly. “Onward,” he echoed the Outsider’s previous sentiments shaking his head at the man. And so they went. 

The rain beat down harder and harder for every bakery he checked. The Outsider kept out of sight, but walked with him, mumbling something unintelligible to himself every now and again. 

Eventually Corvo caught something about the ‘damn rain’ though and he said, “I would have thought you liked the rain.”

The Outsider’s eyes flickered towards Corvo briefly before returning downcast. “Why?”

“You seem fond of the ocean. You don’t seem to mind the cold,” he shrugged. “Why not the rain, I guess.” In retrospect- it made more sense in his head. 

_“I don’t.”_

Corvo blinked against the rain, trying to look at the god, but decided after a moment it was better just to leave it. “Where was the next bakery?”

“Next left.” 

A closed sign hung on the door, but the lights were on. Corov hummed. Was worth a shot. He raised his hand to knock, but before he could the Outsider spoke up. 

“It was raining...When they…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t like it anymore. Shall we leave it at that?” he finally said, his voice as tense as his body language. 

Corvo nodded. “Okay. We’ll leave it at that.” He knocked on the door and the Outsider moved back into the alley, out of sight. 

After another knock a deep voice yelled at him to come in and so he did. Like the Dane’s, this bakery was also a home to the owners. An old woman greeted him from a table in front of the counter. “You gonna buy something?”

He slung some of the water off himself by the door before walking closer. “Well, I was wondering if you might know this girl?” He dropped the very damp photo on the table for her to look at. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Who wants to know?”

“The Empress, Lady Kaldwin.” He glared. Of all the people to give him flack today, it had to be the old lady. 

She snorted. “Right.”

“Do you recognize the girl or not?” He asked, tapping the picture, hoping desperately that the answer was no. This couldn’t be Olive’s aunt. That would be a very cruel twist of fate he felt certain. 

Casting another half hearted glance at the phone the woman shook her head. “No.” A pause. “Are you gonna buy something or not?”

“No.”

“Then get out.” 

He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his situation. “Fine.”

“That scarf must be nice in this weather,” the old woman commented sarcastically as he turned away. “It’s too long though, what kind of idiot made that thing?”

“The Empress,” he said, getting a little more annoyed at her this time. Though it did give him an idea. Maybe a terrible one, but one he’d probably end up going through with anyone. Like most of his stupid ideas. Red, he thought though. _It would suit him if nothing else._ He didn’t bother saying goodbye to the woman before heading out again. 

He ducked into the alley the outsider had tucked himself into quickly. “Nothing,” he told him before he could ask. 

The god hummed, not seeming terribly surprised. “Onto to the next one, I suppose,” he said, already moving forward, back into the rain. 

“Hold on,” Corvo stopped him, unwinding the scarf from his neck. “For the rain,” he explained and began carefully pulling the long piece of clothing around the other man’s neck. He was half surprised the Outsider didn’t stop him, but he only watched, his black eyes flicking back and forth between the hands that were wrapping the scarf around his throat and Corvo’s face. 

When he was done he stepped back and nodded to himself. He had been right about one thing at least- the color was entirely stunning against his pale complexion. 

The god looked back at him with a rather pinched expression, trying, it seemed, to ignore the thing now situated around his neck. “You’ll be ill,” was all he said, crossing his arms. 

“And you said I’d make it. So-” Corvo smiled, “Take the damn scarf.”

After staring at him for a long second the Outsider finally said, “You’re a very strange man, Corvo Attano.” Despite his words, he pulled the scarf up further around his neck. 

Corvo couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes,” he agreed. “But I am what I am, I suppose.” He smiled again looking at the god. He seemed much...warmer now. 

“The next bakery is up the street,” he said. 

Corvo shook his head. “No more today. It’s gotten too late.”

“Oh.” The god frowned. “I suppose I should be going then.” He held the map out. 

“If that's how it is,” Corvo nodded, taking it from him. “Thank you by the way,” Corvo told him sincerely before he could leave. “For walking with me today.” The Outsider shrugged, dismissing his thanks without much of a thought. “It would have been lonely otherwise.”

The Outsider looked apprehensive for a long moment, but eventually said, “Thank you for letting me come.” A pause. “And for the…” He touched the scarf gingerly. He shook his head, not looking at Corvo. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Corvo watched him go. 

And with that, he made his way home. He went to see Emily before doing anything else though. “Hey, I just came to check on you, after being gone all day,” he told her. “Still alive I see.” He smiled. 

“I am,” she smiled back. “Sam kept me company all day. He also told me you were wearing that scarf I made you today. Where is it?” Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn't lose it, did you?”

“I…” He sighed. “I kind of gave it to someone,” he admitted. 

“What? You don't give things to people,” she said. “Well, other than me, but you love me,” she shoved his shoulder lightly. “Who was it?”

“No one you know.” He shook his head. At least she probably didn’t know him. He had actually never thought to ask her about it before. But then why would he?

“You're blushing,” Emily exclaimed, giggling. “You must like them! Who is it?”

“No one,” he hissed, trying to pray away the blood rising to his face. He let his face fall into his hands at the thought though. “Ah, fucking hell,” he grumbled under his breath, letting his forehead rest against his knuckles. She might actually be a little bit right. He loathed himself for even thinking of it. 

Emily giggled. “I'm right, aren't I?”

“No, it's nothing,” he sighed, scrubbing at his face. _He hoped it was nothing anyway._


	9. (I Don't Know That He Can)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for Corvo Attano is nice. It's a good feeling. Try as you might to resist it, it's good. It goes against all of what you know. You're not sure you trust it. This feeling, maybe it will go away with time. Perhaps that would be best. _You take a deep breath, hoping you're wrong._

_“For the rain,”_ Corvo had told him as he had gently wrapped the scarlet garment around him. His fingers rubbed at the scarf experimentally. It was as expected- soft and still warm from when it had been around Corvo for the entire day. “It was...nice of him,” he said conversationally to the Void. The Void shifted around him a bit, but gave no other acknowledgement. 

The god hadn't dared to take it off, feeling fairly certain that the Void would consume it entirely as soon as he did. And whatever his feelings towards it, he didn't want that. It had been given a gift, a kind one; it deserved a better fate than the Void.

He couldn't keep wearing it though. Or at least that's what he had to tell himself. It was too long and bulky. And didn't exactly go with the aesthetic that came with being the god of the Void. Not to mention it smelled exactly like the man who had been wearing it all day. “It was nice,” he sighed, then shook his head. “But I'll have to return it the next time I see him,” he said. The god nodded to himself. “Next time.” 

In the meantime...well, returning it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it while he still had it, he thought, pulling it up around himself a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! <3


	10. He Invites Me Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for the Outsider is easy. He doesn't make it that way, certainly. You think he's actively pushing back against you. But even then, you can't help yourself. Because he is who he is and you are who you are. You won't let it go farther than this. No. You won't. _You take a deep breath as you lie to yourself._

“It’s a bit early for a walk on the beach.”

Corvo sighed, barely casting a glance towards the god who, it seemed, just would not let him have any peace. He closed his eyes, tilting his face towards the sun and trying to focus only on that. The sun. The warmth. Not the Outsider- who most certainly was not the reason he wasn't able to go back to sleep this morning when he woke before dawn. He was making it hard though, standing just close enough to brush up against Corvo when he breathed. 

“Well, you don’t have to be here,” Corvo said after a moment, cracking one eye open to look at him. He couldn’t help but smile a bit upon seeing the Outsider still wore the scarf he had given him. He closed his eyes again though, not particularly wanting to indulge this newfound interest of his. “I won’t throw myself into the ocean if you leave.” _I might if you stay though._

“I’m not here because I thought you would.” A pause. “But I do have a reason.”

“Yeah?” Corvo looked at him then. “What’s that?”

“This,” the god answered, beginning to unwind the scarf from his neck. “I'm returning it.” Corvo stared at him. “The scarf.” He held it to him and it was surprising how much the gesture sort of hurt. 

“You can keep it,” Corvo shook his head, looking away. “It's yours.” _Had that not been obvious when he gave it to him?_

“No, I _can't_. The…” he sighed, trying to put the scarf into Corvo’s hands. “The Void will ruin it,” he explained. Corvo raised an eyebrow. “It will consume it the second I take it off. I’d rather not have that happen,” he smiled a bit awkwardly, avoiding Corvo’s gaze. “Please,” he said, “Take it back.”

Corvo sighed, taking it from him, his fingers brushing his cold hands. It made Corvo want to warm them with his own. “I’ll take it,” he said, “But it’s still yours.” He wrapped it around himself for lack of somewhere better to put it. “Come get it when you want it back.”

The god stared at him. “You’re a very strange man.”

“I think we’ve been over this,” Corvo said going to sit down on some of the rocks nearby. The sun had warmed them. The Outsider sat next to him. Still not close enough to touch, but damn close enough to tempt. Corvo pick up a shell off the ground to give his hands something to do. 

“The fact remains true,” the Outsider said. “You're _still_ a very strange man.”

Corvo looked over at him, unable to stop himself now. “Good to know I haven't changed since yesterday.” 

The Outsider just laughed softly, nothing more to say apparently. His own heart fluttered at the quiet noise and he knew he was fucked. Really and truly. You can't fall for a god, he told himself. _You can't. You aren't._

“What are-” The Outsider began, but stopped suddenly when a crow landed in front of them in the sand. The god frowned at it. In glared back in return. “A raven,” he said, not taking his eyes off the creature. 

There was something strangely familiar about the bird. “Ravens are bigger. It's a crow,” Corvo corrected him, watching it as well. It cawed at them softly and, in that moment, Corvo felt almost certain it was the same bird that he had seen the other day- the one he had given his toast to. It stared at him eerily now, tilting it head to the side- watching with its black eyes. Like it waiting for something. 

“It’s a _bird_ ,” the Outsider finally said, making a shooing motion at it to scare it away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, watching it flee with a strange sort of scowl on his face. 

“You’d never say that about a whale,” Corvo chuckled. 

“Whales are different,” he said, standing up. 

“Only because you like them.” 

“Whales are different,” he repeated stubbornly. 

Standing up, Corvo said, “And you’re free to explain to me the difference.” He nodded his head towards Dunwall Tower, far down the beach now. “But we have to walk.”

So they began walking again. The ocean on his right, the Outsider quietly chattering away on his left. Between the two noises he almost didn't catch the sound, but he made out enough of it that he felt compelled to stop.

“Listen.” Corvo caught hold of the Outsider’s elbow, making him pause with him. “They’re singing.” He pointed out to the ship going out of the harbor, and he couldn’t help but smile. He recognized the tune. South Karnaca. 

_‘Haul away your rolling king, heave away, haul away_

_Haul away, you’ll hear me sing, we’re bound for South Karnaca_

_As I walked out one morning fair, heave away, haul away_

_’Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair, we’re bound for South Karnaca’_

Their voices faded after that, too far away to make out and the two of them resumed their walking. The Outsider has stopped his talking- seeming strangely pensive now. Corvo filled the silence as they went by whistling the rest of the song. “Humans are so strangely fascinating,” the Outsider commented suddenly. 

He stopped mid whistle, casting a glance over at the god. “I'll assume that's a compliment.”

“It is,” he replied softly, nodding. “And you Corvo, among the already fascinating, are uniquely interesting, in my humble opinion.”

“Since when have you ever been humble?”

“They do call me _‘The Outsider’_ for a reason.” He rolled his pitch black eyes at Corvo. “I wasn't always a god.”

“Ah, yes. You used to be one of us fascinating humans.”

The Outsider stopped. “It's been a millennia,” he said. “But yes. And since, I've seen and lived past hundreds upon hundreds of lives. Seen so much and so many, and yet, I look at you and see that you and your soul are entirely unique.” He cocked his head at Corvo. “I don't understand it at all, but I-” he stopped suddenly. 

It would have been entirely possible to have knocked Corvo over with a feather in that instant, his heart stopping at the same time his words did. “Yes?” he prompted quietly after a second, unable to stand the tension. 

The Outsider was frowning, his eyebrows drawn together. “I have to go,” he said darkly. And just like that, he was gone. Even quicker than usual, the air making a faint cracking sound in his absence. 

“Goodbye, then… I guess,” Corvo muttered quietly, waving faintly at the space where the god had previously been. He shook his head, continuing home. He used the actual passages into the castle this time instead of crawling back in through his bedroom window. 

There came a knock almost as soon as he had closed the door to his room. “Come in,” he said. 

It was Emily, unsurprisingly. About the only other person it could have been was Sam. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, coming into the room quickly, a large box in her arms. “I came in earlier this morning and you weren't here. I was worried.” She set the box on his bed. “I wish you'd start leaving notes or something. With all the things that have happened…” she shook her head, not finishing the thought. 

Finally, she looked up at him. “Oh.” she crossed her arms. “I see. You've been moping.” 

“I’m not moping,” he told her. 

“You are,” she insisted. “I recognize your moping face. Why are you moping?” She frowned, staring at him as though looking at him hard enough would bring forth an answer. 

Apparently it did. “Wait,” she gasped. “Your scarf. It’s back. Oh, no,” she groaned, putting a hand on his arm. “What happened?” She asked, pouting slightly, looking terribly disappointed. 

“Nothing,” he hissed, pulling the scarf from his neck even as he spoke. “What do you want, Emily?” he asked, throwing the damn thing on his desk. 

“Thomas Dane’s funeral is in a few hours.”

“Alright.” He shrugged. What did it matter to him? The bastard was dead, not like there was anything for him to do anymore. 

“Olive asked that you come,” Emily told him. When he sighed she continued. “And seeing as how you brought her here, I figured it was the least you could do.”

He sighed again, leaning back against his desk. “Fine,” he conceded. “Fine, I'll go.”

“Good,” Emily said. “We’ll meet you downstairs in about two hours.”

She turned to leave. “Wait,” he told her.

Looking over her shoulder she merely raised her eyebrows at him in question. “Why's the box here?” He asked, eyes flicking over to it. 

“Well…”

“Emily.”

She bit her lip. “I was hoping you could do some of the invitations for the wedding.”

“Why?” He asked, coughing. Damn the Outsider, he was getting sick. Nonetheless he continued, “We have...people to do this and I'm most certainly not one of those people.” Corvo had a job; this wasn’t it. 

“But you have such wonderful handwriting,” she pleaded. “It'll just be the important ones. Please?” She pulled a piece of paper out of the box and held it out to him hopefully. 

Snatching the paper out of her hand, he said, “You abuse my love.” Writing invitations wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time, but he also supposed he didn’t have much else to do with his spare time anyway. 

He turned to put the box of invitation supplies down, but she caught him by the arm. “Oh,” she said, “And please, invite yourself a date. I don't want you to be alone.”

“You want me to bring a date to your wedding?” 

“Yes.” She smiled, obviously pleased with this idea of hers. 

“Who am I supposed to ask?”

“I don't know. Perhaps whoever it is you seem to like so much. Second time's the charm.” She winked at him, then grinned. “You’ll figure something out,” she laughed softly. “You’re a very eligible bachelor, you know. Everyone is always fawning over the great and mysterious Corvo Attano, Lord Protector of not one, but two Empresses.”

“That’s-”

“It’s been going on for years with the servants,” she smirked. “It’s cute.”

“Not the word I’d use,” Corvo said. “Ridiculous would be better.” It wasn’t that he didn't know about everyone being half in love with him from afar, it just wasn't anything that had ever really interested him. Nor did it now. 

“You won't have any problems getting someone to go with you is the point.”

“When do you want these finished?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“It doesn't matter much,” Emily said. Grinning, she added, “Just make sure there's one for your date.” 

“Fine.”

“Good man. I'll see you later. I've got to help get Olive ready. She's become rather attached to me, I think.” Her eyebrows drew together. “I'm worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” he said. “She tough like you. Probably why she likes you.” Emily just shook her head at him heading on out the door.

He had gotten through about half of the invitations when the god of the Void returned. “You're back,” Corvo said without looking up. He didn't have to. He could practically feel the cold creeping up behind him. 

“I am.”

“Do I dare ask why?”

The god sighed, coming to lean his hip against the desk. “You know why.” His eyes flicked down to what Corvo was writing. “Now, why are you doing this?” His brows pulled together, “Surely, there other people to do such things?”

Waving the paper back and forth to dry the ink, he shrugged. “Emily asked,” he said, moving on to the next invitation. “And I’m told I have good penmanship.”

The Outsider craned his neck to see the paper again. “So it would seem.” 

Corvo rolled his eyes. “Thanks.” When the Outsider came and sat on the edge of his desk he had to lean back in his chair, the proximity just a little too close. He massaged the back of his head, he could feel a headache coming on. “So, where did you go earlier?” Corvo asked, putting his pen down. 

The Outsider, who had been happily flicking through Corvo’s correspondents up until he spoke, looked up then. The side of his mouth hitched downwards suddenly. “Nowhere of interest,” he muttered with a shake of the head, going back to what he was doing. Albeit a touch more shyly this time. 

“I think we both know that's not the truth,” Corvo huffed, crossing his arms. He bumped the Outsider’s knee with his, trying to get his attention. The god looked up guiltily. “If you don't want to say, that's fine by me,” Corvo told him, “But I'd rather not be lied to.” 

The Outsider sighed deeply, like he was tired down to his very bones. “To see Daud. He is...unhappy with me.” He set the paper he had been holding aside and crises his arms. “He blames me for things- as if _I_ played some part in the man’s poor life decisions.” He rolled his eyes. 

“That sounds like Daud,” Corvo nodded. “Does what he wants- blames other people for the outcomes.”

The Outsider half laughed, but shook his head. “I fear there's something on the horizon I cannot see,” he said tiredly. “Something very bad, Corvo.”

“Well, from my experience, when you've got a bad feeling about something it's usually for a good reason.” 

“I agree,” the god said. “I’m just unsure of what course of action to take now.”

Corvo suppressed the sudden urge to laugh. Leave it the Outsider to find a way to say ‘I don't know what to do’ in the most complicated way possible. 

He hummed though. Considering Daud, whatever he was planning, he wouldn't be convinced by talk. “You could always take his mark,” he said. Looking down at his own, he could remember exactly how much Delilah taking his had pained him. Not the nicest of solutions maybe, but, with any luck, an effective one. 

“Did you miss yours...When it was gone?” He was looking at Corvo’s mark. 

In truth, the answer was yes. He had missed it the short time it had been gone. It had been his connection to the Void. To the Outsider. At the time, he would never have admitted it, but he had missed that- not the powers it gave him, but the connection to the Outsider. He had offered his gift to him a second time though. Something Corvo doubted happened often and perhaps he hadn't needed it then, but he had wanted it. So he took it. 

“I don't know about the mark,” he told the Outsider. “But I missed you.” 

He must have blushed. He must have. Because the Outsider laughed, ducking his head. “Yes, well, I suppose Daud won't have that problem,” he said, hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

Corvo hummed, “Probably not, no.” He regretted his previous words, but at least the Outsider wasn't looking so downtrodden now. 

With nothing left to say, he picked up his pen again and went through a couple more invitations, the Outsider peering down at him curiously the entire time, before stopping again with a deep sigh. He was to the end of the list. The only one left was the one that one was to be for his date. 

“Are you done then?” The Outsider asked, squinting down at the piece of paper he had barely written anything on. 

“No,” he sighed looking at the unfinished letter. “Emily insists I invite a date.” 

“Who’s the lucky soul to be?” The Outsider leaned back on his hands, propping his feet up on Corvo’s chair. 

Ginger wasn't a bad idea. He did owe her that date. Two birds, one stone with that one. The unfinished invitation stared back at him- daring him to write the words he really wanted to. “I haven’t decided yet,” he finally said, scratching his beard thoughtfully. 

“Give them flowers.”

“What?” He looked up from the invitation. 

“Whoever you ask,” the Outsider said. “Give them flowers.” He shrugged, not meeting Corvo’s eye. “People still like that, don't they?” His brows drew together, like he was trying to remember something and couldn't. 

“Well, yes,” Corvo answered after a moment. Last he checked anyway. It had been while since he’d had to think about that sort of thing. “But why am I doing this?” Hypothetically at least. 

“They will be more likely to agree,” he explained. “Or at least I seem to remember that being how things were.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Things get so fuzzy after so many years, Corvo.”

Tiredly, he propped elbow on the edge of his desk and setting his head against his knuckles. “What if I don't want them to agree though?” Corvo asked, only half joking. 

The Outsider smirked down at him. “Then I do believe you're out of luck, dear Corvo. Are there are any who would say no to you?”

_You._ “Oh, I could think of a few,” he sighed. Looking at the clock he saw it was almost time to go. Emily had said two hours and it had been about that. “Now move your feet, I've got to get up.” When the god didn't move, Corvo just sighed pushing his feet off. 

“More bakeries?” The god questioned when Corvo had stood. His words were casual, but Corvo knew from his tone he was interested, he couldn't hide it. 

“No, I've got a funeral to attend.” 

“Thomas Dane?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Corvo said, shrugging his coat on and grabbing his boots. 

When he looked back, the Outsider had that damned scarf in his hands again. He must have found it in that box Emily had given him. “It's very nice,” he said quietly. “I did appreciate it.” 

He hopped down off the desk, walking over to Corvo. “I suppose I should be going then.” Corvo nodded in silent agreement. “Will you miss me?” The Outsider asked, smirking. 

_Bastard._ Corvo huffed. “Will you miss _me_?” he asked in return. 

Wrapping the scarf around Corvo’s neck gently, he said, “Deeply.” Shockingly, he sounded entirely sincere. His cold hand came to rest on Corvo’s cheek. “Goodbye, Corvo.” And he disappeared again. 

A shiver went through him and Corvo rubbed at his face, trying to get rid of the ghost of his touch. He did this until he reached Emily and Olive downstairs, the feeling not leaving him even then. 

They waited for him there, by the doors. Emily held Olive’s hand. “Is everyone ready?” She asked quietly when he reached them. 

Both he and Olive nodded silently. Taking his hand too, Olive said, “We should go.”

“We should,” Emily agreed and so they did. No one spoke the entire way there. Not even when they reached the graveyard. The priest seemed to know there were was no one else coming and started his speech shortly after they arrived. 

She squeezed their hands tightly when they lowered him into the hole. Corvo couldn't help but think ‘good riddance’, but stayed quiet. It was best not to mention the truth of things. 

“What happens now?” Olive asked them as made their way back to Dunwall Tower afterwards. 

“Now, Corvo is going to find your aunt and when he does do, you'll be able to go home again,” Emily spoke before he could say anything himself. “And everything will be just fine.”

Olive sighed. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Emily smiled grimly. 

They went off without him when they reached home. Without anything else to do, he returned to his room again. Once there though, the unfinished letter he had left on his desk seemed to call to him. Begging him to finish writing it the way it wanted to be written. 

There was no point in giving it to him though. There really wasn't. But he couldn't help but think about what might happen if he did. Corvo sighed sitting down to finish the damn thing. Without much thought he scribbled in the words ‘my love’ where a name should have gone and shoved the letter into the envelope. He decided it would do and sealed it with wax like the others. He'd take it to Ginger with the book she had asked him to return. 

It was colder there it seemed, at that end of the castle. It was making his nose run, only worsening his cough. “Oh, are you getting a cold, Corvo?” Ginger asked, when he coughed coming into the library. 

He sighed. “From what I hear, yes.”

She raised an eyebrow at that answer but made no comment. “Well, thank you for returning this.” She waved the book at him before shelving it. “I appreciate not having to go looking for it.”

“Um, one more thing, Ginger.”

She smiled brightly at him, turning back. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” he decided suddenly. “Nothing, I'm sorry.” 

She just laughed. “You're a strange one, Corvo. Truly.”

“Heard that one too.”

The invitation weighed heavy in his hand as he walked away. _’Fuck it,’_ he thought, shoving it back in his coat. He was a fool, but he knew before he even came down here he wasn’t going to give it Ginger. If he had he would have written her name. 

For once when he retired for the night, he actually was tired and went to bed immediately when he got back to his bedroom. He felt like he had done nothing but walked all day long. Back and forth. Always coming back to this room. 

Corvo fell asleep almost as soon as he laid down he dreamed of what might have happened earlier in the day. “Will you miss me?” he found himself asking again. 

The Outsider put the scarf around his neck. “Deeply,” the Outsider answered, just like before, and brought his hand up to touch his face. Only this time, Corvo caught it there, not letting him disappear this time. 

He brought the hand around to his mouth, kissing his palm. “Stay then.”

“Why?” He asked, not pulling his hand away. 

Corvo stepped closer, dropping his hand and going to cup his face. “Because I asked.” He tilted his face up, letting his forehead drop against gently against his. 

The god only closed his eyes. “And what will you do if I oblige?”

A terribly vivid imagine of Corvo pushing him onto the bed and tearing his clothes off flashed in his mind for a moment. “Whatever you want,” Corvo said, leaning down to press his mouth to his 

And just like that- he was gone. Again. Leaving him with nothing but a deep ache in chest. 

When he woke he thought it was Emily who had sat down on his bed. She was the only one he knew who would come into his room unannounced anyway. Instead, he opened his eyes to find the Outsider there, looking down at him with familiar black eyes. 

“You look tired, my dear Corvo.”

“Get off my bed,” Corvo grumbled, turning over. A moment later he felt the weight lift from the other side of the bed. “It's too early.” Not to mention he felt like death had finally come to collect him. 

“It's late actually,” the Outsider told him quietly and Corvo could tell he was floating around above him somewhere instead of standing. “I had wondered why you weren't up by now, but now I see. You're sick. Like I told you you would be.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Corvo coughed, finally opening his eyes only to find he hadn't been wrong. The Outsider hovered a few feet in the air above the empty spot in Corvo’s bed, hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. 

It wasn't a bad view, admittedly. Nevertheless, Corvo sighed. “Must you?” he asked. 

“You did tell me to get off the bed.” He looked down at Corvo, a devilish smile on his face. “I could rejoin you if this bothers you more, I suppose.”

_“Don't tempt me,”_ Corvo said before he could stop him. The Outsider’s eyebrows shot up. Before he could say anything though, Corvo threw the covers back and rolled out of bed. 

Stretching as he did he had the strangest sense of deja vu somehow. It was when he picked up his shirt from the floor that it hit him. Last night. He remembered...talking to the Outsider. Touching him. He had meant to kiss him. 

It had to have been a dream. Corvo had touched him and he hadn't been cold. It _had_ to have been a dream. Still, feeling more than a little paranoid, he asked “Was I...in the Void last night?”

“No.” The Outsider frowned at him. “Why?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Just a dream, I guess.” He shook his head, pulling on pants. 

“What are you doing?” The Outsider asked, still floating over Corvo’s bed. He had gotten so lost in thought, still reeling over his dreams, the god had to repeat himself. “Corvo.” He snapped his fingers at him. 

“Umm,” he blinked over at him. “Getting dressed,” he answered finally, doing up the last button of his shirt. 

“Thank you, Corvo. I'm not blind.” He rolled his eyes. “I was more questioning your plans for afterwards.”

“I've still got to find Olive’s aunt.”

“You're sick.” He finally came to stand, disappearing from above the bed and reappearing in front of Corvo. 

“Not sick enough, obviously.” Corvo spread his arms wide. He had gotten out of bed- he could do this. Sure, his throat hurt and his head wasn't doing him any favors, but he could make it- just like always. 

Turning back to his desk he wrote down a quick note for Emily, as per her request, but stopped when he saw the invitation again. He sighed and slipped it into his coat with a small grimace. _Why did he have to be such a fool?_ “Come on,” he told the Outsider. “We’ll go this way.” It was late enough they'd have to to not to be seen. 

“This is ridiculous,” the god said, but followed Corvo out to the balcony. “You're really going to do this when there's a perfectly fine set of stairs that way?” He nodded back to his bedroom door. 

Corvo merely answered by stepping over the railing and jumping down to the next rooftop. He thought he heard the Outsider call him a few unsavory things from where he still stood on the balcony, but kept going. He would catch up with him one way or another. 

Finally, when Corvo had reached the streets, the Outsider reappeared next to him. “I hope you didn't think I was actually going to jump across rooftops with you, Corvo.”

“No,” Corvo laughed. “I didn't, but I kind of wanted to see if you might.” Handing over the map again, he said, “Lead the way.”

The Outsider had no problem with this, giving Corvo directions as they walked and chatted about various things. Mostly things people did that the god had deemed strange in some way or another. After a few stops with no luck the he asked, “Why aren't you using the heart I gave you?”

“It died,” Corvo answered simply. 

The Outsider blinked, silent for a moment- of course, knowing what that meant. “I'm sorry to hear that,” he said. 

“Is what it is.” Corvo shrugged. He had sort of known it was coming when it happened, it hadn't been a huge shock and in reality Jessamine was already gone. She had been for a long time. The heart dying had been a sad day certainly, but not the one of the worst. 

Leaving the Outsider on the little patio the bakery had set up, he entered yet another bakery that turned out didn't belong to ‘Aunt Dane’. The woman who did own it was kind enough to sell him a sandwich and tea though. 

When he returned the Outsider was standing off to the side, appearing to be talking to a crow. “Is that the same crow from yesterday?” He asked. The god spun around. “Does it at least have something of interest to say?”

“You bought food?” He didn't answer the question, frowning when Corvo sat down at one of the tables. 

“What?” He asked. “Some of us have to eat.” _And some of us are idiots who like gods and need to invite them to their daughter's wedding somehow._ Corvo sighed. “Just sit,” he said. “It’s not like you have anywhere else to be.”

“How would you know?” He asked, plopping himself down in the chair across from Corvo. 

Chuckling, he said, “Because you seem to spend all of your free time bothering me and that's most of the time nowadays.”

After eating in silence for a while, the Outsider seeming deep in thought, Corvo spoke. “You're still wondering about Daud.”

Black eyes flickered over to him briefly before returning to the sky. “Yes.”

“What are you afraid of exactly? What could he possibly do that would actually affect you?”

His eyes flashed back to his. “More than you would think, Corvo.”

Taking another bite out of his sandwich, Corvo asked, “Should I pay Daud a visit myself?” The offer wasn't just words either. Should he need to go have a little ‘chat’ with Daud...Well, he certainly wouldn't hesitate. 

“No.”

“It's not like I'm busy.”

“I said no, Corvo.”

“Don't get snippy,” he said. “It was just an offer.”

The Outsider just sighed, choosing to ignore him now. 

Finishing the last bit of food, Corvo asked, “So, what do you think?” There was a woman across the street selling flowers that had given him an idea. 

“A lot of things, but I assume you're inquiring about something specific.” He still sounded annoyed, but seemed to have mostly calmed. 

“The flowers,” Corvo said. “You said give whoever I invited to the wedding flowers. What sort of flowers did you have in mind exactly?”

The Outsider shrugged, barely casting a glance over at him.“I can't say I much of an opinion on flowers, Corvo. I've had some time on my hands for the past few hundreds of year, but very little of it has been spent thinking about flowers.”

“Now don't give me that,” Corvo said tersely. “You've got an opinion on everything. So, I know you've got an opinion on this.”

“I don't know who you’re giving them to.”

“Doesn't matter.” 

The god threw his hands up, clearly getting annoyed again. “Sunflowers then.” A pause. “They mean...Warmth and loyalty,” he explained, softer now. “Very much like you.”

Corvo hummed. “Maybe you've spent more time thinking about it than you care to admit,” he sipped his tea. The Outsider narrowed his eyes at him, scowling. 

When he finished the tea Corvo stood, putting a hand on the Outsider’s shoulder as he moved past, but did not beckon him along with him this time. Instead, he left him there, crossing the street to the woman selling flowers. 

“Who are you giving them to then?” The Outsider asked waiting on him when he returned. Corvo almost laughed at the sour look on his face as he poked at the flowers in Corvo’s hand. 

He hummed, clumsily pulling the invitation out of his coat. “Ah well, you know... I was thinking...You.” He set the invitation and the flowers into the god’s hands gently. “But since you seem so sour about the ordeal maybe these flowers aren't working.”

“Corvo,” the Outsider said, all anger having left him now. 

“I would steer clear of the crowds,” he advised quietly.

_“Corvo.”_

“I had to write that by hand you know.”

He tried to push the things back into Corvo’s hands. “I do know, but-.”

“Right,” Corvo nodded. “So, you know it took a fair amount of time and effort.” He pushed back on the Outsider’s cold hands. “And a lot of thought,” he added. “So, please, take it.”

And he did. Albeit, with a rather annoyed glare at Corvo as he shoved the invitation inside his coat, but he did. “Ridiculous,” he mumbled down at the flowers. 

“It was your idea.”

His lip quirked up at this side, though only barely. “Don’t remind me.” He didn’t stay any longer after that comment, disappearing into the Void without another word.

“Nice seeing you too,” Corvo muttered, shaking his head. He had been planning on calling it a day anyway. 

When he got back he decided to give Emily her finished invitations. “Your invitations, _Lady Kaldwin_ ,” Corvo said, setting the box on her desk. 

“Oh, thank you!” She ignored his ‘Lady Kaldwin’ comment and stood up, kissing him on the cheek. “Now the only thing you’ve got to do is shave that beard and get something to wear.”

“I’ll pretend that part about shaving was a joke.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Did you invite your mysterious friend?”

Corvo hesitated. “Technically, yes.” Emily stared at him suspiciously. “I invited them,” he defended, “Whether they show up or not is an entirely different matter.” With any luck though, he had a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song there is actually a 'sea shanty' based on [this song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_s_EyXv8d-k)


	11. (I Don't Know Why)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for Corvo Attano is ridiculous. Completely and utterly so. He gives you things. Wonderful, beautiful things. Things you cannot accept. You are the god of the Void and as such cannot bear the things he offers lightly. And you know he offers more than what one can see. You tell yourself you must refuse. _You take a deep breath, as you lie yourself._

The flowers were a bit much, he thought looking down at them again. Corvo had been right though, they were _his_ idea. And, he supposed, they proved his earlier thought that they made it more likely that whoever recieved them would say yes considering he had technically agreed. 

Which had been a terrible decision. He was not...a being who accompanied anyone to weddings. He took out the invitation again, ripping open the envelope with little care. “A wedding,” he snorted. “Ridiculous.” The Outsider shook his head at the pretty paper and the even prettier scrawled handwriting. He had addressed it to _‘my love’_. Was that supposed to be him? Or a general term of endearment he liked? He had said before he didn't know who he would invite. 

Whatever the case, it was still ridiculous. He folded up the paper and shoved it back inside his jacket- pointedly not thinking about what the words might mean. 

Looking down at the flowers he said again, “Absolutely ridiculous.” He did not drop them though, not wanting them to be taken by the Void. Instead, he went to one of his shrines, one in Dunwall, and left them there. He cocked his head at the scene- not exactly his motif, the bright flowers didn’t match a damn thing there, but...they didn’t seem out of place. No. They belonged. They did. Despite everything, they belonged there.


	12. He Has No Regard For His Own Well-Being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for the Outsider is like drowning. You don't plan on it. But the water takes you over, pulling you under. You struggle with it. Thinking, foolishly, that you could beat this force of nature. You struggle with it until you can't, until you're exhausted and fighting hurts just as much as the alternative. And eventually you let it in. _You take a deep breath, accepting your fate._

Emily took another bite of cake, frowning. “What do you think?” She asked him, looking out over their spread of cakes on the table. “I think the lemon was better.” She tapped her fork against her mouth thoughtfully. 

Corvo sighed. “I don’t know. The chocolate was...nice.” In truth, the chocolate had made him feel like he was going to be sick, but then they all had had that effect. _Breathing_ was making him feel sick right now. “Why isn't Wyman the one doing this again?” He asked. Truly he didn't know how he had be wrangled here in the first place, but come to think of it- Wyman really should have been the one doing this. 

“Because Wyman is out with his parents trying to explain why he’s marrying me.”

Mostly out of curiosity, he asked, “Do they still hate me?” He wouldn’t be surprised if he were part of the reason Wyman had to explain things to them. 

“Probably,” Emily said, “But I wouldn't worry about it if I were you.”

“Who said I was worried?” He really wasn't. Plenty of people hated him. It was nothing new. So long as the few people he cared about didn't, he was fine. Though, he did hope that his reputation wasn’t causing any trouble for Wyman- and by extension Emily. 

“Well, no one, but I'm just saying that it's not a big deal that they don't like you.” She held out yet another plate with a piece of cake on it to him. “Try this one.”

His stomach churned at the thought. “Sam will try it when he gets here,” he told her, not taking it from her. “I've got to go.” And with those words he wasted no more time, finally pushing himself to his feet and standing. “I'll see you later, Em.” 

Not giving her any time to protest he dropped a quick kiss on top of her head and left, almost running into a maid coming in with more cake on his way. 

She blushed. “I'm sorry, Lord Protector.” He just waved her away, not even pausing as he went by her. 

Corvo went to find Sam first. He was on guard somewhere though, so he wouldn't have to go out of his way to search for him. “Are you okay, sir?” Sam asked, stopping when he saw Corvo. “You look unwell.” His brows drew together. 

“I'm fine.” Corvo shook his head, pausing only a second to say, “Just go sit with Emily while I’m gone,” before continuing on his way. Without a doubt, he knew that Sam would do as asked. There was no need to stick around and make sure. Not sure his stomach could handle roof jumping today, he opted to use the stairs out; he received only seven strange looks from surprised guards on his way. 

Traveling alone this time, Corvo had to read the map himself as he walked. He was distracted though- between fighting off the urge to throw up everything he had eaten earlier and wondering where the Outsider was today, he had to check the map every few seconds to make sure he was going the right way. None of it helped the nausea. 

Corvo could only assume the Outsider had went to deal with Daud finally. Or had, unsurprisingly, gotten bored with him. That particular thought stung more than he expected it to, so he tried not to think on it too much. One way or another, the god was nowhere to be found today- leaving him to his rather lonely work. 

He had only visited two bakeries when he had to stop and sit down. Just for a moment. Practically falling down on some unfortunate soul’s stoop, he did and once he was there it didn’t take long for him to start retching. He didn’t feel much better afterwards either. 

It figured that that would be the time the Outsider finally decided to show his face. “Was that breakfast?” He was looking down at him, head cocked to the side curiously. “If it was, it couldn't have been that good.”

“‘M not in mood for jokes,” Corvo breathed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was glad to see he was back though. One less thing to worry about. 

The god smirked, coming to sit down beside him on he steps. “I did tell you this would happen.”

“Shut up.” Corvo leaned his head against the cold bricks beside him. He really didn’t want to hear any ‘I told you so’s’ from him. It was enough already that he felt awful. 

“Have you considered going home? Maybe laying down? Sleeping? All those things they recommend when you're _sick_.”

“I've got to-”

“Find the girl’s family,” he finished for him. “I know. I’ve heard.” The god rolled his eyes. “I think she might be alright for another day, Corvo,” he said. “You should go home.”

“Just do me a favor and don't let me hit my head on anything if I pass out when I stand up.”

“You are beyond ridiculous, do you know that?” The Outsider shook his head, watching him as he stood. 

Corvo closed his eyes a moment to let the dizziness pass. “Listen,” he said. “You can either shut up and come with me, or you can go back to Void. I don’t much care today because I feel like shit, but it’s your choice.” He held the map out in offering. 

The Outsider shook his head at him, snatching the map out of his hands. “The things I do for you,” he muttered, unfolding it. “Oh, look- all signs point towards Dunwall Tower.” He looked pointedly up at Corvo. 

“Just read the map, you little demon,” Corvo groaned. He didn't have the patience for the god’s antics today. 

He sighed. “This way then.” The Outsider turned Corvo in the right direction, a light hand on his back pushing him forward. 

Their destination wasn't too far away though. He left the Outsider standing outside as per usual and continued in. He grimaced at the smell of food, but went up to the counter anyway. The big man behind it watched him, concern etched across his face. “Are you alright, sir? You don't look so good.”

“You know, I’m so glad everyone could notice how bad I look today,” he said, half coughing his way through the remark though. 

The man laughed heartily. “What can I do for? Can I get you a nice loaf of wheat, perhaps?” He gestured to the loaves of bread behind him. 

Corvo handed the picture of Olive across the counter. “I’m looking for this girl’s aunt. I don't think that's you though.”

Laughing again, the man agreed. “No, I've never been an aunt to anyone. Aunt or not though, can't say I've ever seen this one.” He frowned at the photo. “Sorry about that,” he told Corvo, handing the picture back. 

“S’alright.” Thanking him for time, Corvo exited the bakery. The Outsider fell in beside him immediately, being strangely clingy now. He steered them down an alley next, murmuring something about it being quicker. 

They both stopped when someone stepped out in front of them in the street. “Hey, ain't you….ain't you that Attano guy?” The man asked, taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. He was drunk. 

He got the distinct feeling he'd end up regretting it somehow in the moments to come, but Corvo nodded. “That's me.”

“You're the one who killed the last Empress though, right?”

_Of course that's where this was going._ “No.” He pushed the Outsider to the side, trying not to draw anymore attention to either of them. 

“You were in prison though, weren't ya?”

“It was a mistake,” Corvo said turning away, he had neither the energy nor the want to deal with the man who couldn’t even be bothered to read the news apparently. 

“And _you_ ,” he squinted at the Outsider. He frowned. “You’re not right either.” He was leering at him now, obviously trying and failing to recognize the god. A look of realization passed over his face all of a sudden. He drew a pistol from his coat. 

It was instinct more than anything, when Corvo struck out. He knew the Outsider wasn't in any real danger and he knew he was probably just making the situation worse, but it was instantaneous when he moved- knocking the pistol aside and pulling the Outsider behind him.

Unfortunately, he started something he couldn't finish in his sickly state. It didn’t take much to knock him off his feet either. 

Corvo didn't even bother to get up, too tired. The Outsider seemed to have it handled anyway. He had pushed the man up against the brick wall, leaning in close, he whispered something in his ear that Corvo couldn't make out. When he let him go the man wasted no time, running down the alley at a full sprint.

The Outsider straightened his coat again before walking over. “You fucking idiot,” he hissed leaning down over him, surprising Corvo. Mostly because he had never heard him swear before. The Outsider crossed his arms decidedly, looking down at him. Stepping closer, he sighed. “Your lip is bleeding,” he told him, softer this time. 

“I’m fine.” Though from where he laid, he was sure his words seemed less than credible. Touching at his mouth, he saw the Outsider was right when his fingers came away stained red. He tongued at the spot gingerly, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He gave a half hearted shrug. “I'm fine,” he repeated.

“You’re ridiculous, is what you are.”

“I've been getting that a lot lately.” Corvo closed his eyes tiredly. “It's the scales though,” he finally said. Opening them again he saw the Outsider watching him, his expression somewhere between concern and curiosity. He continued, deciding he might as well explain himself now. “I was sitting there one day, next to Emily, across from some banker.” He waved a hand at the mention, unable to even remember the man’s name now. It wasn't important. 

“He dragged out a set of scales for some reason or another. Somewhere between the cost of building a new ship and the cost of repairing the old one, I got a bit lost in thought.” He shook his head. “I was...counting my own costs of things, I suppose. Tallying up the number of lives I had taken against the number of lives I had saved. Which was one: Emily’s.”

The Outsider only stared down at him. “Needless to say, the scales were not in favor of the living,” Corvo said and sighed. “I'm trying to set them right.”

The Outsider sank down beside him. “Corvo,” he said slowly. “I never saw you take a life unless you _had_ to. There were a lot of paths you could have taken- worse ones than you did...You’ve traveled the best one you could have given your circumstances, I assure you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“What I’m saying,” he ignored Corvo. “Is that the scales _do_ favor the living. Take it from someone who can see the scales, Corvo.” He sighed. “You have no idea all the things that could have happened. How many lives could have truly been lost if Emily were not returned to her throne- _twice_. How many lives you actually spared, or even saved in some cases.” The god shrugged. “It is not as simple as you might think.”

The Outsider reached down, swiping his thumb gently over Corvo’s split lip. “You are a good man, Corvo.” 

He pushed his hand away, the action reminding him far too much of what he had done in his dream the other night.“It's hard to take your word for it,” Corvo said.

The Outsider sighed, dropping his hand. “Have I ever lied to you?” He asked. 

“Besides the other day when you disappeared to see Daud?”

“I wasn't lying then, but yes, besides that.”

“Not that I recall.” The fact seemed a bit strange actually. _Everyone_ lied, but he couldn't think of a single time the god had actually told him something that wasn't true. Cryptic and weird, yes. Things he didn't understand, yes. But lies? No. Never. 

“Then believe me when I tell you these things, Corvo.” He offered his hand out again, this time an offering of help. Corvo took it, letting him help pull him onto his feet. 

He didn't let go of him though, instead pulling him even closer and wrapping his free hand around the other man in an embrace, their joined hands still between them. The Outsider stood stiff, obviously shocked at this turn of events. After a long, awkward moment, he said, “You're very warm.”

“Yeah, it’s probably a fever,” Corvo laughed, not letting go of him. It was actually quite nice holding him like this, for more than the obvious reasons- he was cold and against the heat of the fever it was a relief. 

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because I'm hugging a literal _god_ and the only thing you do is comment on my fever- I’m pretty sure you'd actually murder anyone else who did this.”

“Yes...Well, you're different,” the Outsider told him and Corvo felt him duck his head deeper into his chest, like he was trying to hide. It was...adorable. A word hadn't really thought applied to the god before, but it did now and it made him laugh again. 

They stood there like that a while longer before Corvo had to break away. “What I'm about to do should not be taken as a reaction to what just happened,” he said, giving the Outsider a grim smile. The god look at him completely befuddled until Corvo started retching into the nearest available garbage can. 

When he was done, Corvo wiped his mouth and said, “Alright, we can go.”

“Charming as ever, Corvo.” The Outsider shook his head. 

“I said it wasn't a reaction to what just happened,” Corvo defended. “Wasn't exactly like I planned any of this anyway,” he said as they began walking again. 

“No, I suppose not, but I did tell you it would happen, didn't I?” 

“You said I'd get a cold, you didn't say I'd feel like shit.”

“You know I might actually try to help you, if you'd just go home,” the Outsider told him, a mischievous spark in his eye. “Take a right,” he added when they came to a crossroads. 

Corvo snorted, mostly ignoring him. “If it involves magic, I think I’ll pass.”

“You say that now,” he chuckled, hanging back now that they were at the bakery. 

Turning back to him, Corvo laughed, holding his marked hand up tiredly. It was covered again, but the pointed remained. “I think you've given me plenty of magic already.”

Smirking, the Outsider said, “You think so, Corvo?”

Corvo just shook his head at him, continuing inside. The place was almost bare though. There were tables and chairs set up inside like it had once been a place to eat but...nothing seemed to actually be in use. It certainly didn't seem like a bakery. “Hello?” There didn't seem to be anyone anywhere and he didn't hear anything either. 

“Aw, fuck off,” a man told him, coming through a door into the dining area, a woman close behind. 

The woman smacked him on the shoulder. “Ignore Henry, he drinks,” she told Corvo as the man walked over to a set of cabinets, pulling out a bottle of dark alcohol. 

“Ignore Charlotte, she's annoying,” Henry snorted even as he poured himself a drink, proving her point. 

Charlotte ignored him. “What can we do for you?” She smiled pleasantly at Corvo. 

Corvo dug out the picture of Olive for what felt like the hundredth time. “I'm looking for this girl’s aunt,” he told her. “Do you recognize her?”

The woman hummed, shaking her head before passing it over to Henry. 

“Yeah, I know that little brat,” he tapped the picture. “Always showed up with that deadbeat Father of hers to see Mary.” He knocked back the rest of his drink. “Always took money from her.”

“Is _Mary_ here?” He asked hopefully. Was this it? Was he done? 

“Not anymore,” the man snorted disdainfully. “Killed herself a while back,” Henry said and Corvo’s heart sank. “Lousy thing.” He lit a cigarette, shaking his head in disgust. 

“She’s dead?” Corvo felt sick again. 

“As a doornail,” he confirmed gravely. “Only place you can find her is six feet under.” Rudely, he blew smoke in Corvo’s face. “If it will get you out of here faster, her mother lives down at West road,” the man threw out, pouring himself another drink. 

Charlotte frowned. “I thought it was Poppy road,” the older woman argued. 

“No, no, it's West now. She used to live on Poppy,” he explained begrudgingly. “Old bat moved a couple years ago.”

“Huh.”

“So where exactly is this?” Corvo finally asked. 

There was a beat of silence. Then a jumble of the two of them both speaking at once, telling them how far to go past different milestones and where to turn at. He caught absolutely none of it. 

“An address,” he cut them both off. “I need an address.”

Charlotte looked a bit sheepish then. “Well, we don't know that, but I can write all the directions down for ya.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

The woman hastily moved to find a piece of paper to write the instructions down on. When she returned, she said, “If you can't find it-”

“Don't come back here,” Henry interrupted.

She continued, ignoring him, “Just come back and we’ll help you as best we can.”

He thanked her and left. But not before the old man told him to fuck off one more time. Corvo thanked him as well. 

“Will you go home now?” The Outsider asked when he got back to him. 

“Yeah, fine. Home.” He rubbed at his head, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Placing the piece of paper in the Outsider's hand he told him, “I got what I needed anyhow.” 

“What is this?” He questioned staring at the strange instructions in confusion. 

“That, is where we are going to find Olive’s grandmother.”

“Tomorrow.” It wasn't a question. 

“Yes, tomorrow,” Corvo sighed in agreement.

“Good,” the god nodded, putting the piece of paper into his pocket. “Let’s go home then, my dear Corvo.” 

Nodding in agreement, they began to walk- albeit Corvo did so a bit warily, the world still swaying beneath him. After he had stumbled a few times, the Outsider slipped his arm through his, locking the two of them together. “You know, you don’t look so good.” 

Another wave of dizziness washed over him and he gripped the god’s arm tight, trying to steady himself. “I'm fine.” Despite his words, he did not let go of the other man’s arm. 

“On your so-called ‘bright side,’ this is the worst of it, at least,” the Outsider informed him. 

“Whatever you say.” It certainly didn't feel like this was the bright side. Nonetheless, he kept walking. All he wanted to do right now was lay down and sleep for about three days. Or at least until tomorrow. 

When they got to Dunwall Tower Corvo made him pause. “What are you gonna do if someone sees you? You should go.” Both of them knew he didn't mean it though. The Outsider’s grip on him hadn't loosened once since he first caught hold of him. 

The Outsider just ignored him, continuing with him into the castle. He finally let go of the god when he had to open his bedroom door. immediately he went to his bed. “You're just going to let me suffer like this?” Corvo asked, letting himself fall back onto the bed. He tilted his head so he could watch the Outsider. He had went and taken his usual place at Corvo’s desk, propping his feet up. 

“What would you have me do, Corvo?” He asked curiously, leafing through the papers on his desk absently, not looking particularly interested in things today. 

“Not let me die.”

“You aren't dying.”

“Kind of feels like it,” Corvo argued. 

“That's what you get for going out in the rain then, isn't it?” He cast a smug look towards Corvo, throwing the papers in his hand back into the desk, clearly disinterested in them. 

“You're a cruel god.” Corvo knew he was right though. And he had warned him about this, he just hadn't listened. 

The Outsider made a sort of snorting sound. When he spoke he sounded more amused than anything though. “So they say, but the fact is I can’t do anything for you, even if I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

“No blood,” he said simply. “There’s a reason people open up their veins over altars hoping I’ll give them something- it’s an exchange. There’s _power_ in blood. If you were bleeding, I could hypothetically help.”

“So, if I were bleeding to death…”

“If you were bleeding to _death_ , yes, I could help. And if you died before I could do anything...Well, I couldn't bring you back from the dead…but,” The Outsider paused. “With any luck you’d be close enough to one of my shrines that there would be...things I could do to keep you around, so to speak.” He gestured vaguely at him. 

“Keep me around?” Corvo didn’t open his eyes. “That sounds unpleasant.” He'd never given much thought to the afterlife, but he found he didn't like the thought of being a ghost. 

“In the Void,” he explained casually. “I can take your soul into the Void when you die. You'd be...alive technically, but you wouldn’t be able to move on- you’d be stuck there forever.” A pause. “With me.”

“Forever with you in the Void.” Corvo cracked open an eye to look at him then. “Not so bad. Better than not knowing what's next, I suppose.” 

The Outsider smiled grimly. “You have a strange perspective, Corvo.”

“Always,” he agreed. “If I didn't, you wouldn't be nearly as interested though.”

“You don't know that.”

Corvo just hummed, pushing at the blankets around him. He hated being ill. He always got the worst fevers. Which of course came accompanied by chills. “Damn, it’s hot in here.” Corvo finally threw off the blanket off completely with a huff.

The Outsider cast a sideways glance at him, then at the blanket on the floor. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m _sweating_.”

“You’re sick.” He got up from the chair, walking closer to the bed. “Like I said you would be.” He peered down at Corvo, watching him fumble at the buttons on his shirt. 

“I remember,” Corvo grumbled. “I also distinctly remember you saying you were going to help as well earlier,” Corvo finally sighed, dropping his hands and mumbling about his ‘damned shirt buttons’.

The Outsider laughed lightly, throwing the blanket back over him. “I suppose you're right,” he agreed. “I did say I would help.” He held the back of his hand to his forehead. “Lucky you.”

Corvo grabbed his wrist, not letting him pull away. “Lucky me, indeed,” he said, and too tired to care about what repercussions it might incur, he pulled the god down with him, knowing full well the only reason he could do what he was doing was because the Outsider allowed it. 

He didn’t seem too perturbed by the turn of events, moving to settle down beside Corvo. “I did tell you,” he said, undoing the top buttons of his coat. 

“You did,” Corvo said, letting him pull that damned blanket back up around his shoulders again. There wasn’t much point in trying to fight him at any rate. It was a surprise though when he felt cold hands on the side of his head, adjusting him until his head was resting against his now exposed throat but not an unpleasant one. Corvo turned further into him, letting himself have this one. He felt like death, he'd sacrifice a little dignity. It felt damn good too. He was cool, and it just felt good to touch him besides. “Thank you,” he whispered into the crook of his neck. 

“Go to sleep, Corvo,” was the only reply that came. He did not feel the gentle kiss the Outsider pressed to the top of his head when he fell asleep.


	13. (I Wish He Did)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling for Corvo Attano is not something you planned. He is a fragile being whose lifespan you've lived hundreds of time over. And oh, how clearly that clock has begun to tick in the back of your head as you are with him. How precious every moment is with this mortal. So you hold on to him with everything you've got- knowing you'll never be able to let him go. _You take a deep breath, accepting your fate._

He stayed there longer than he should have, Corvo tucked up against him. There was light coming in through the windows, but he didn’t want to move. Corvo sighed in his sleep, his breath warm on the Outsider’s neck. He _really_ didn’t want to move.

Eventually he did though, removing the arm Corvo had thrown across his chest sometimes in the night and then his head back to an actual pillow before getting up. He pulled the blanket back up over him. “If you would just take care of yourself, Corvo,” the Outsider murmured, brushing some hair out of his face before turning his back on the man and walking back into the Void. Where he belonged.

“I’m back,” he said in greeting to the Void. No response. A pod of whales _did_ float by, though. “I see you were lonely.” One of the whales clicked at him conversationally. “I was taking care of something...someone,” he explained to the whale. They clicked at him again. “It was important.” And it had been. Corvo was important.

_Caw!_ His head snapped up. “You again.” It was the crow. (Not a raven.) It was perched in some scraggly leafless tree, its roots embedded deeply in the rock around it despite most certainly being dead. The Void had been kind enough not only to bring it here but to give it a tree it seemed. The Outsider hummed at this development.

“I knew it was you,” he said to the Void, his eyes never leaving the bird. “You can't leave him alone anymore than I can.” It crowed at him again.


	14. He Drinks Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving the Outsider is confusing. It's hard to tell what's what sometimes. Like drinking too much, he made things hard to grasp. You think maybe he doesn't truly want you to know what's going on anyway. You can't help but love him anyway. _Because enough will never be enough._

The Outsider walked beside him, though he was rather quiet today... or maybe sullen was a better word. They had walked almost a mile without a word from the god. It was odd to say the least. Especially after yesterday. Which had been equally odd, Corvo supposed. Even so, he thought it better he not ask about it. 

It turned out that he didn't need to. “It’s ridiculous, you know,” the Outsider finally spoke, frowning deeply over at Corvo.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” 

“Inviting me to the wedding. I’m...a god, Corvo. An unwelcome one, at that.” He rolled his dark eyes. “It’s supposed to be a...A what? Happy occasion, yes?” Corvo shrugged, but he continued, “I shouldn’t be there.” He frowned. “Besides I can’t even dance.”

“You want me to teach you to dance?” Corvo couldn’t help but laugh a little. Was he seriously worried about the dancing? The Outsider scowled. Corvo sighed. “Well,” he said. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, you know? No offense will be taken- by me or Emily.” The Outsider only scowled further. “And I’ll leave you to ponder on all that,” he told him, patting him on the shoulder, before splitting off from him and entering the little shop he assumed belonged to Olive’s grandmother. If the directions he had were any good, at least. 

The smell of old furniture greeted him at the door. Obviously the old woman sold antiques. A young woman was sweeping the entryway. “Can I help you?” She asked him immediately. Clearly, they weren’t busy.

“Yes, actually.” Corvo pulled out the picture of Olive and gave it to her. “I’m looking for this girl’s grandmother and I was told this was the place to find her. Is she here?”

“Gone,” the woman told him, her accent becoming more apparently thick. “Won’t be back until tomorrow probably.” She handed the photo back. “That’s her granddaughter, though. Matches the pictures she has upstairs.”

He nodded. At least he had the right place. “Well, could you please tell her to come to Dunwall Tower when she returns? Her granddaughter is there. She can ask for Corvo Attano at the gate.”

“Aye,” the young woman nodded. “I can do that. And you? You’re Corvo Attano?” She eyed him curiously. “Royal Protector and all that?”

He sighed. “That’s me.” Please, don’t do something stupid, he couldn’t help but think. He'd had more than enough trouble the last go round. 

The woman pursed her lips, regarding him quietly. “Well,” she finally said. “I’m sorry about all the troubles you’ve had, Mister Attano. Never liked how they did things that time.” She shrugged. “Always seemed like there was something fishy ‘bout all that anyway.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t hide his surprise. That was a new one. “Thank you. I...appreciate it.” 

She smiled half-heartedly, her mouth turning it into more of a grimace than a smile, but the meaning came through nonetheless. “Well, if I can help you with anything else…” She shrugged, gesturing to all the old furniture sitting around. 

“No. No, thank you. I’ll be on my way now though.” He nodded to her. “Thank you for the help,” he told her and left just as he had come- quietly and quickly. “Come on,” he said to the Outsider when he reached him again. “Time to go home.” 

“So, you're done?” The Outsider asked after they had walked a little ways. 

“Hmm?”

“Searching Dunwall for bakeries.” He wrinkled his nose. “I assume this will put an end to that.”

“It would seem that way, yes.” 

“A shame.” Corvo raised an eyebrow at him. He had seemed to find such distaste at the thought just a moment ago. The god shrugged, looking away from him. “I will...miss our travels together.”

“Well, you’re still allowed to come around,” Corvo told him. He hadn't thought about it until now, but he supposed the Outsider would be showing up less. Corvo would be getting back to being ‘boring’ after this was done. He wouldn't be interesting. “Not like I could ever stop you anyway,” he said though. 

“No, you couldn't,” he agreed simply, and Corvo thought he would say more, but he didn’t. They walked all the way back to Dunwall Tower without much else said between them. The Outsider only spoke up again when he had almost gotten back into his bedroom at Dunwall Tower. “You've torn your coat,” he told him, watching Corvo blink over to the balcony. 

“What? Where?” He frowned, checking himself over. 

“The back.”

Taking off the coat to get a better look at the rip, he sighed. When the hell had that happened? “The seamstress will love this,” he told the Outsider, fingering the torn fabric. He tossed it aside and began undoing the wrapping over his mark since he could now. 

“You're looking much better today,” the Outsider commented quietly from where he stood leaning the doorway. “Not nearly as sickly looking.”

“I do feel better.” He sat down on his bed, watching the Outsider cross the room towards him. “Which is surprising. Funny how that works I guess.” He had half expected to wake up today feeling marginally worse even and was surprised to realize he actually felt well. 

Reaching out to him the Outsider took his wrist, his fingers cold and light, turning his hand over so his mark was visible. “Well, this does help, you know.” He tapped the mark lightly with his index finger. 

“What happened to ‘power in blood’?”

“I told you it was an _exchange_.” He held onto Corvo gently, but didn’t let him pull away. “There is power in me and the Void, Corvo.” Smirking, he added, “And in you.” The god brought his black eyes up to meet Corvo’s. “Because of me.”

Corvo imagined grabbing him right there and there, pulling him down against him and kissing that absolutely maddening look right off his face. Would he pull away? Disappear into the Void? Or keep it going? His mind weighed the two options- he knew which was more likely, but he found he liked the second one better anyway. 

He thought also of shocking him in a completely different way- admit to him all the thoughts and feelings he had been keeping to himself. I've fallen in love with you. He couldn’t decided if it would be a relief or a disaster to say the words aloud. 

“Corvo.” The Outsider had finally dropped Corvo’s wrist. 

“What?” He blinked.

“Nothing,” he said, beginning to step away. “Nothing at all, Corvo.” 

“What?” Corvo asked, grabbing his arm to stop him. 

The Outsider just laughed, shaking his head. “You really are just so strange, Corvo.”

“Why do you say that?” His fingers tightened on his arm, just about to pull him closer. 

“Because-” 

A knock sounded at his door then. The Outsider was gone before he could even tell him to ignore it. He sighed. “Dammit.”

The knock came again and Corvo finally dragged himself up to answer it. “What do you want?” He asked, pulling open the door. 

It was one of the maids. Corvo could never remember her name, but she and Emily were friends. Despite this, she has always acted like a frightened mouse around Corvo. “T-The Empress has requested that you attend the party later this evening,” she told him timidly, her voice shaking. 

He sighed. “What party?”

“The Empress was having a party today for all the lords and ladies to celebrate her wedding.”

“Isn't that what the wedding is for?”

The maid looked very awkward. “Well, it's for those that she did not invite.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Emily had tendency to not want to offend. “When and where then?”

“

Tonight, sir. In the courtroom, of course.”

“Tell her I'll be there. Thank you…” he trailed off, still unable to recall the girl’s name.

“The Empress also requested that I tell you to wear something ‘nice’.”

“Right...I’ll try my best.” He closed the door, turning back to the bed half expecting the Outsider to have returned. 

Seeing that wasn’t the case, Corvo sat down at his desk to wait. He ending up waiting the rest of the day for the Outsider to come back and ended up disappointed. Finally, he had to go. Apparently he had a party to go to. 

He got a little drunk. A little. Tipsy was a better word. He wasn’t supposed to be…But he definitely was. The one drink he had had simply because he damn well needed one had turned into about five when some woman he didn’t know cornered him and kept handing him one after the other as they sat together. 

The thought that maybe she was intentionally trying to get him drunk did come to mind, but he honestly didn’t even care anymore. Nor did he care about anything she was talking about. First it had been some sort of gossip about the lords and ladies and who was cheating on who and with what part of their staff, then she had switched gears to Emily’s wedding and how upset everyone was about it being small, and now he wasn’t even sure. He thought that might be the wine’s fault though. 

“Do you have your eye on anyone yourself, Lord Protector?” She smiled politely at him, slyly laying a hand on his leg. 

His hand, covered by a simple blue wrapping tonight, burned for a quick moment before settling back down. He flexed it, half wondering what that was about, but stared at the small hand resting on his leg, drunkenly pondering her question. _Did he have his eye on anyone?_ He thought about the Outsider and sighed. The truth was terrible sometimes. 

“If not, maybe you and I could…” she trailed off, coming to rest her other hand across his shoulders. “Sometime. Maybe. If you aren't too busy,” she smiled as she moved the hand on his leg to wrap around his hand. 

Corvo hissed at the pain in his left hand, ripping his hand away from the woman suddenly and spilling his drink on her in the process. She gave a startled yelp, retreating back to her side of the seat as she tried to dry her dress with a napkin. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled- though felt worse about losing his drink than he did for spilling it on her. “Something stung me this evening and I couldn't get the stinger out,” he lied quickly, gripping his left hand in his right. 

“Oh,” she looked apologetic. “I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. Maybe I should look at it?” Big blue eyes looked at him worriedly. She had a sweet face, he had to admit. She wasn't undesirable, a fact she was obviously well aware of, but needless to say he was interested. She wasn't his type anyway. 

He shook his head, he didn’t need her help. Didn’t want her help, but it would have been rude to tell her so. Instead he just smiled politely, the wine making it a little easier. “No, no. I'll have one of our doctors look at it later. Thank you, though.” He nodded, before standing. “If you don't mind, I'm going to go check on the Empress.” She gave him a small smile, letting him be on his way. 

He huffed a short breathe when he got far enough away. “Damn thing,” he swore at his own hand, rubbing it. It tingled lightly at the contact, but had since ceased the searing pain that had once flared through it. 

Emily was dancing with some elderly nobleman, looking entirely bored. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug. At least he was the only one having a terrible night. “Would you like another drink, sir?” A man with a tray of wine glasses passed him. 

He took one with a shrug and went to be somewhere quieter. Which was for the best, he had decided, walking out onto the balcony where he was alone- but still had line of sight on Emily. 

He was wrong of course, he wasn't alone. There was a woman. Dressed almost as decadently as Emily had been forced to. “You're Corvo Attano,” she said, watching him curiously. “The Royal Protector.” She smiled. He nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “I heard you were sitting rather closely with Lady Samwell just a few minutes ago.”

He raised an eyebrow. Is that who that was he wondered, but said instead, “News travels fast.”

The woman laughed. “She's been planning to make that move on you for months now. It's good to see that you escaped with your life,” she laughed again, seemingly far too entertained. 

“That makes two of us.” He downed the rest of the wine in one go, setting the glass down on the edge of the railing. 

She hummed, coming to stand closer to him. “Little did Lady Samwell know I meant to make my own move on you tonight,” she whispered, leaning against him to whisper in his ear.

Corvo felt in that moment that he was going to need about a dozen more drinks before the night was over. “I see,” he said. “How is that going for you?” 

She shrugged, the look on her face eerily similar to another he knew all too well. “I think rather well, since of all the ladies come here to grab your attention tonight I'm the only one to have gotten you alone.” 

Ladies come to grab his attention? What did that mean? Corvo sighed. What had Emily done now? He dismissed the thought; he would talk to her later. “You didn't get me alone,” he pointed out to the woman. “I came out here and you just so happened to have been here as well.”

She stepped even closer. “But alone we are,” her lips were almost on his ear. She put a hand on his chest. “I was hoping to steal a kiss at least. I thought you more than anyone would appreciate a little stealth.” 

His fuzzy mind processed her words slowly, and by the time he had sense enough to move she had pressed her lips to his. It was a rough and very handsy on her part- her hands traveling up his chest to rub over the back of his neck and over his shoulders. It all might have pleasant even, had his hand not felt like someone had set it on fire. 

He gasped at the pain, but she thought it from pleasure, deepening the kiss further, which only furthered the pain, until he pushed her away. He did so as delicately as he could, the task more difficult than it should have been when it felt like someone had stuck a brand to his skin. 

“I'm sorry,” he shook his head, he told her, already moving away. “I have to go.”

Grinding his teeth as the pain subsided from his hand, he decided he was going to have words. He didn't know with whom yet- Emily, for apparently setting him up on whatever the hell this was or the Outsider, for the pain he was causing tonight for some reason- but one way or another he would be having words with someone. He flexed his left hand as he walked, the pain leeching away slowly as he did. 

He spotted Emily again and moved toward her, only to be stopped by yet another woman. Perhaps his annoyance showed more than he thought because she shrunk back slightly upon looking at him. “Why, hello,” she still managed bravely giving him a smile. “Headed somewhere important?”

Over her shoulder he glared dagger at Emily. She looked back with a meekly apologetic smile. “Yes, actually,” he hissed, marching past the woman towards his daughter. _His daughter who should have known better than this._

He took her arm, pulling her away from the people she had been talking to. “Should I hazard a guess that you're the reason women are kissing me on balconies tonight?” His hand flared up a little at the mention. 

Emily held a hand over her mouth, not meeting her father’s eyes. He knew she was laughing at him and with that his anger did begin seep away. He really could not stay angry with her. “I'm sorry,” she laughed. “I'm so sorry.” She shook her head, giggling. “I didn't think they'd be so bold.” She hugged him. “I really didn't. I'm sorry.”

He sighed deeply, hugging her back as she laughed into his shoulder. “Do I wanna ask why?” He knew he didn't, but still he would. 

She pulled back slightly to look at him. “You just seemed so lonely. I worry about you,” she frowned, putting a hand to his stubbly cheek. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, I know, but I wanted to help.”

He sighed, “Just, please, promise me, you won't ever do this again.” It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what she had been _trying_ to do. It just wasn't something he wanted. 

She laughed again. “Only if you promise to relax and have a few more drinks _and_ talk to someone.”

Corvo snorted. “One drink and I'll talk to no one. I've done enough for one night, surely.”

Emily let him go with a tiny wave and a gentle smile that reminded him of her mother. He sighed, plucking another glass off a tray as the man passed him by. He did not stop to to talk to anyone, he didn't even stop when one of the guards asked him where he was going. Instead he just handed his quickly emptied wine glass to him and continued out the doors. He found Sam stumbling around in the halls, drunker than he was. Sam grinned when he saw Corvo. “Corvo,” he said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told him, slurring his words and half leaning against him now. Corvo put a hand against the wall to steady the two of them, his mark prickling at him all the while. “I wanted to tell you something.” 

“What Sam?” He asked, wrapping his other arm around the man so they weren’t on the verge of falling over. 

Sam looked up at him, expression somewhere between sadness and quiet determination. Straightening himself suddenly, holding tighter onto Corvo, he said, “I love you.”

_Ah shit._ It wasn’t unpleasant when Sam closed the gap between the two of them, but damn did it hurt. It hurt enough his hand slipped off the wall and threw them both off balance, interrupting the kiss. 

He hissed, cradling his still burning hand. “I’m-“ Sam looked at him embarrassed, though perhaps a little more alert than before. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I should not have-“ He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m going to go.”

Corvo let him. With any luck this topic of conversation would never come up again, but he had his doubts. That was a problem for future him, though. Present him wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for days. 

Walking until he found a couch he did just that, closing his eyes and falling asleep almost as soon as he had laid down. No sooner had he done this than had the Void begun to wrap around him and drag him in. He only sighed, allowing it, with great ease, to do as it pleased. He was still slumped into that most awkward position he had fallen asleep in when the Outsider appeared in front of him. Scowling. 

Corvo couldn't be bothered to care. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “You know, sometimes I like to just sleep… _Like when I'm drunk_ ,” he chuckled. The wine had finally hit him it seemed. 

He rolled his dark eyes at Corvo. “You're obviously insufferable when you drink.” He floated around Corvo, closely watching. 

Corvo let his head fall back, popping his neck quietly. “And you’re obviously pissed,” he held up his hand in explanation, “And I don't know why.” He closed his already drooping eyes, leaning his head against the marked hand. In doing so though, he had missed seeing the Outsider’s scowl. “But I'm not sure I wanna know either.” 

When the Outsider said nothing Corvo opened his eyes and spoke again. “If you didn't bring me here to talk, then what do you want?” He sighed, having to crane his neck back to see the being now, who floated just out of his peripheral. “If you're not going talk then I am,” Corvo said. He held up his hand, pulling the wrapping off. “That really hurt, just so you know.”

Looking down at it now, he saw that it was glowing. He flicked his eyes up towards the Outsider. That was a new one. 

The Outsider turned from him. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Corvo was too tired to try to understand what that meant exactly. “Right, sure. Well, I'm very tired,” Corvo admitted, though it came out in a bit of a slur. “And drunk.” He pursed his lips in thought. “I'd really like to sleep. Can I go now?” The Outsider still seemed displeased as he watched him, his arms crossed over his chest, floating just a little above Corvo. 

“What?” Corvo finally whined. “Do we have a problem? Did I do something?” He asked, finally pulling him up to stand. “Have I become boring? That was fast,” he laughed, although the thought made him ache. 

“No.” The Outsider pinched the bridge of his nose. “No,” he said tiredly. “Corvo, you are just the most difficult man I have ever known.”

“And you're the most difficult _god_ I've ever known,” he said. “Course, I do only know _you_.” He laughed. “You wouldn't be so difficult if you'd just tell me what you wanted, though.” Oh, how much easier his life would be if he knew what the Outsider wanted from him. 

Corvo flexed his hand- thinking about what the Outsider wanted, about the sharp pain that had plagued him earlier...Pain that had come when… He closed his eyes, a light grin spreading across his face as realization dawned on him. “You were jealous,” he said, opening his eyes to look at the Outsider. “You were jealous,” he repeated, beginning to laugh. It was ridiculous. The god of the Void was _jealous._ Because other people had been trying to make a move on him. 

Said god was looking at him rather sourly as Corvo laughed. “I wasn't jealous.”

Corvo wavered only slightly as he stepped closer to the Outsider. “Oh, yes you were.” He took another step closer to the floating deity. “You were jealous. Afraid someone's gonna snatch me up before you've got the chance?” He asked, unable to contain his laughter. 

Bravely grabbing the front of the other man's coat he pulled him close. Close enough to kiss. Almost. He considered it, looking at his pale lips. “I’ll admit,” he whispered, _“I've been very tempted.”_ He leaned his forehead against the Outsider’s, not even noticing the cold anymore. “Cause I’ve definitely thought about it.” He was almost certain he was slurring his words, but couldn’t be bothered to care. He was doing a lot of that tonight it seemed. 

_“You’re insufferable,”_ The Outsider whispered, but didn’t move for a moment. Until he did- grabbing the front of Corvo’s jacket and pulling his lips to his at the same time he backed Corvo up against the wall of rock behind them. 

Even if he had wanted to- and he didn't- there was no room for protest. The Outsider had him pinned there, kissing him with so much frustration and annoyance. He had one hand still balled up in his coat and the other gripped Corvo’s hair, holding him there. 

His own hands hand drifted down, gripping the other man’s hips like his life depended on it, pulling him closer. He swore when the Outsider’s mouth left his, wandering elsewhere. “You're so cold,” Corvo mumbled, his hands moving up under the Outsider’s clothes, just to feel more of him. 

“And you're so warm,” the Outsider breathed against his neck, pressing a kiss there. All the anger and frustration that had been present previously had gone completely. “You were thinking about _this_ earlier,” he said, pulling Corvo’s collar further down. “I could hear it.” Corvo’s hands didn't stop. The Outsider sighed, pressing closer to him to whispers in his ear. “You took off your coat...the bone charm I gave you, it doesn’t work if it’s not on your person.”

“There was more than that though,” he continued, humming. His hands moved to cup his face, tilting it so Corvo would look at him. _“Do you love me, Corvo?”_ His voice was barely a whisper now. 

“Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to,” Corvo whispered back. 

“Why do you think I don't?” His thumbs stroked over Corvo’s face gently. 

He leaned his head wearily against the Outsider’s shoulder. _‘Because you're a god’_ , he wanted to whine. Because you don't love me. Because I don't even want to admit it myself. “I'm tired,” was all he said. It was, at least, the one truth he could say aloud right now.

The Outsider sighed, fingers moving through Corvo’s beard. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I'll let you sleep then.” He pressed one last, soft kiss to his lip and then pushed forward on Corvo's chest with a single hand and it was like the Void was letting him go; the feeling similar to floating back to the surface after being deep, deep under water. 

He barely stirred in his sleep, eyes fluttering back closed instantly. 

The next day Corvo did wake, and with three maids and a guard standing over him arguing about what they should do. The maids were saying that they had to clean and the guard was wanting to let him be. Corvo cleared his throat, sitting up. “To settle the matter,” Corvo said, his voice rough, “I'll just be leaving. Sorry to get in your way.” He nodded to them. 

His head was pounding as he trudged his way up to his own room. The mark on his hand pulsed in time with the pain in his head. He just sighed. Something….something happened in the Void last night, but he couldn't quite recall. He could remember the party. The women approaching him, the searing pain in his hand, talking to Emily...Sam...It was all crystal clear until he fell asleep. He couldn’t remember the Void. He rubbed the mark hoping whatever it was would come back to him, but then maybe it wasn’t his own memory, but the Outsider who was keeping him from remembering. 

Once he had changed clothes and washed his face he set off to find the Empress. And find her he did, in the garden, examining a rose as though there was something crucially important about it. “What are you doing?”

Her head snapped towards him in surprise. “The beast roams once again.” She smiled. “I saw you fell asleep on the couch downstairs.” She clipped the rose she had been staring at moments ago, and with deft hands proceeded to tuck into the pocket on the front of his coat. 

“It's beautiful,” he told her, taking it out immediately and holding it’s stem between his fingers lightly, minding the thorns. “Thank you.”

She nodded in agreement. “Roses for the wedding would be lovely, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I suppose.” Roses weren't exactly the reason he had come to find her though. 

“How did you sleep?”

“Fairly well actually.” It was a rare occurrence. 

Emily smiled at that. “Good. You don't sleep near enough.” 

“You never answered my question- what are you doing?” He said, taking the shears from her hand. “You're supposed to be meeting with Olive’s grandmother today.”

“Not until tomorrow,” she defended, taking the shears back. 

“No, actually,” he informed her gently. “It was today. Trust me, I get all the notices, but unlike you I actually read them. You're already ten minutes late,” he added. 

She swore. “Oh, hell. You're right.” He shrugged. “We’re going to have to be fashionably late,” she told him decidedly. 

“Something like that,” he agreed and they quickly began making their way back into the tower. 

Sam stopped them right before they could get to the dining room. He looked to Corvo and blushed, but quickly looked away. “An old woman is at the front gates, asking for you, sir.” 

“I told you.” He looked over at Emily. “Bring her into the council room,” he told Sam. “We’ll wait there.”

When Sam thought the elderly woman in, Corvo say. “It's good to finally meet you.” 

She just hummed at Corvo, turning her attention to Emily. “Where is my granddaughter?” She asked sitting down at the table. 

“She's out with one our maids right now,” Emily explained. “We thought it might be better to talk to you first before we-”

“About my son killing his wife? Yes, I know already. Everyone knew! It wasn't a mystery.” She shook her head. “He was jealous,” she explained, shaking her head. “Of his daughter loving her more than him. Of course she loved her more.”

_‘You were jealous.’... ‘Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to.’_

Corvo choked on his drink. Both Emily and Olive’s grandmother looked at him. “Are you okay?” Emily asked, leaning over to put a hand on his arm when he couldn’t stop coughing. 

He waved them both away. “Fine,” he finally got out. “I just uh, just remembered something from last night. It's nothing.” He nodded to himself as they went back to their conversation. _It was nothing._

For a moment he had tried to convince himself it had been a dream, but his heart almost stopped when he realized the Outsider had been cold when he touched him. It had been real. _Fuck._


	15. (I'm To Blame)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving Corvo Attano is difficult. It is because you've made it that way though. You can't stand it though. Can't stand the others. They watched him, touched him, like they were his to do such things with. So you set the record straight. You give him another mark that you regret giving afterwards. You couldn't have stopped yourself though. _Because enough will never be enough._

The crow was staring at him.“Whatever you're going to say, you should just say it,” he finally said, sitting down next to it on the rock. The bird had, of course, seen everything that had just transpired. It pecked at his fingers and he flicked at it. “Just because you're here doesn't mean I like you,” he muttered. 

Finally, it gave him a small little caw, turning its head up at him. “I don't know what you mean,” he replied. It did it again. “Nonsense.”

The whales joined in then, agreeing with the infernal creature. “Nonsense,” he repeated. “I don't...love him. I just…” He stopped and sighed. The words didn't even sound convincing to his own ears. 

The bird flew up to land on his shoulder, giving a quiet, questioning squawk. “I don't know,” he answered. “Wait for him to sober up?” He chuckled shaking his head. Any other time, seeing Corvo drunk might have been quite entertaining, but tonight he could have done without it. Sighing, he told the crow, “I’ll have to talk to him tomorrow.” That conversation was sure to go well. “In the meantime, well…” He shrugged. “He should sleep.” The crow cawed in agreement.


	16. He thinks I'm Playing With Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving the Outsider is desperation. It's what drives you to seeking him out. You need to see him. Unable to help yourself, even in your dreams. He has become a need rather than a want. You hate yourself for that, that you need someone, and him of all people, but you know it's the truth. And denying the facts stopped working long ago- so, you go to him. _Because enough will never be enough._

Emily was listing off all the things that had to be done before the wedding. He looked at the seamstress desperately from where he sat. She had started talking so fast she sounded like a chipmunk. “Are you getting any of this?” He asked the woman tiredly. She shook her head weakly, putting another pin in Emily’s wedding dress. “Emily,” he said. “Emily, slow down. I'm not understanding any of this.”

“And you have to shave,” she finally finished.

_That_ he caught. His eyebrows drew together. “I like my beard.”

“Shave. It.” She pointed at him. “It’s scraggly.” 

“But it's my beard,” he said, reaching up to touch the hair in question. “I’m fairly attached to it.” Shaving was...a rare event. Not only was it an entirely tedious process, but he liked having a beard. 

Emily fixed him with a look worthy of her mother. “You’ll shave it before the wedding or you're not coming.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

The seamstress looked up at Emily. “You’re done, your highness. Theresa will see to helping you out of this.” She snapped her fingers and her little assistant came running. 

“Thank you.” She stepped down off the pedestal, taking Theresa's outstretched hand for support. 

As she walked away with the girl, the seamstress looked to him. “Your turn, sir.” She crooked a finger at him. “Come on.” Albeit a little unwillingly, he took Emily’s place on the pedestal. “I've only got to take your measurements,” the woman told him bringing out out a tape measure. 

“And what color was decided for the suit?” She eyed Corvo questioningly.

Coming back in in her usual clothes, Emily answered for him. “Blue,” she said, no small amount of certainty in her voice. “He looks best in blue.” She smiled charmingly at her father. 

“The Empress told me before you got here that you also have a coat you need mended as well, Lord Protector,” the seamstress mentioned casually as she began taking. her measurements 

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I didn't think to bring it with me today, but it's got a tear in the back of it.”

“What were you doing, if I might ask?” She stretched the tape measure down his leg. 

Emily looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer as much as the seamstress was. “I don't know,” he told them both honestly. Truly, he didn't. The first he had known of the damage was when the Outsider had pointed it out. 

The Empress hummed, “Could it be...it got snagged on something while you were running over rooftops?” Her voice undoubtedly disapproving.

“Could be,” he said slowly, rolling his eyes. “Could be the coat is just old, too, though.”

“So, you agree things that are old are easier to break?” A small smile spread across Emily's face. 

“Don't make fun of your father,” he said tersely, but didn't really mean it. She had been making fun of how old he was since she could talk practically, it was a running joke.

“Why not? Are you too old to handle a joke?” She asked slyly. 

He opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by the seamstress. “Oh, what's that?” She turned his collar down curiosity. He sighed, deeply. “Did I scratch-” She covered her mouth suddenly, giggling.

“What?” Emily stood up suddenly, concerned. She was standing between them before either of them could stop her. 

“Sorry,” the seamstress whispered, her face going red. 

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Is that a hickey?”

He sighed. He had only found the bruise yesterday evening. Really, he had thought it would be gone by now. “It's nothing,” he said. 

“It’s a _hickey_ ,” Emily hissed at him. “On my father’s neck.” She sounded absolutely scandalized. “Who put it there?” She asked suddenly. “Was it the one you invited to the wedding?”

He looked at the seamstress. “Please, help me.”

“I’m staying out of this,” she told him shamelessly, taking one last measurement before pulling the tape over her neck. “Besides, I’ve gotten everything I need, sir. My job is done. You’ll have to help yourself.” 

Nonetheless, she did help, pulling Emily away to ask her a few more questions before they left. Emily thanked the seamstress as well as her assistant as they went out the door. “So, now that that’s all done, you've got to tell me who put that on your neck, old man,” she told him quietly as they walked away. 

“Never gonna happen,” told her, pulling up his collar again. She just laughed. 

The rest of his day was spent doing very little, but he was still tired by the time he got back to his bedroom that evening. He had some time to waste before he had to go with Emily to turn olive over to her grandmother officially. They had mostly worked everything out yesterday, but they had all eventually, much to the annoyance of Mrs. Dane, that it would be best that they tell Olive first and then let her go home the next day. 

Emily felt it was less complicated that way. Corvo thought it actually over complicated things and she was really doing this because she had gotten attached to the little girl, but had bitten his tongue on the matter. He could deal with this complication, it was the other kinds of complicated in his life he was having troubles with. 

The Outsider, of course. He complicated things, as always. He complicated everything it seemed; maybe it was his goal in his very, very long life to make sure everything was as complicated as possible. 

Memories of the night were practically seared into his head now, plaguing him at every given opportunity. How he had felt like against him, always so cold, though he warmed pleasantly under Corvo’s touch. What he tasted like, salty like sea water and, strangely, something Corvo still couldn’t quite figure out that could only have been named as the Outsider. What he had done, pulling gently at his clothes to expose more of him and the not so gentle bite he had given him afterwards, bruising the skin there. What he had said, _‘Do you love me, Corvo?’_ And there was where he always had to stop. Because he couldn’t stand to think about it. He knew the answer. The Outsider surely did as well. And yet...

It all made him ache to do it again, try to be braver and just answer him. Which was partly pathetic and partly depressing because either way, he didn’t think he’d get the chance. He hadn’t seen the god yesterday and he doubted he would see him today. Or even the next. Corvo’s...behavior had probably made sure that he’d be gone for a while. 

Somehow though, it just wasn't all that surprising when he opened his bedroom door and found him lounging across his bed. “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Corvo said, closing the door behind himself. “Get off my bed,” he told him, barely glancing over at him as he moved past to sit down. He couldn’t. 

The god stood, though made no rush of the task. “I came to talk about last night,” he said, eyes following Corvo across the room. “I-”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Corvo said before he could finish. “In fact, I’d really rather we didn’t.” That much was true. If he could go back and do things over the night, he would have, but this? No. He didn’t want to do this. It was too messy this way. Too hard to explain. 

“You-”

“Nothing,” he interrupted again. “It was nothing.” Corvo stared him down, this just wasn't anything he was going to talk about right now. He continued on to taking off his boots.

The Outsider shook his head at him, clearly annoyed. “Insufferable,” he muttered, beginning to pace around the middle of the room. 

The word made Corvo tense up. _‘You’re insufferable.’_ That was what he had said before, in the Void. It was crystal clear in his memory. What happened after he said it even more so. “It was nothing,” Corvo said said again, looking away from him, but it was more like he was saying it to convince himself now. If he said it enough times it would become the truth and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of it. He could just move on and forget.

The Outsider look at him, arms folded across his chest and mouth drawn into a hard line. _It wasn’t nothing. And they both knew it._ “I suppose I should be going then,” he said. The phrase sounded strangely definite. As if he left now, he was gone for good. 

“I suppose you should.” The words felt wrong on his tongue, but they were out before he could say anything else. He didn't want him gone. Not forced. 

He stepped closer, closer than truly necessary. His leg brushed Corvo’s knee. “Goodbye, Corvo.” He paused, waiting- almost as if he were stopping to see if Corvo would stop him. 

He should stop him. “Goodbye,” he said, the word leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. 

Watching him disappear to the Void was much the same. He clutched the bone charm in his pocket , wanting so badly to take it out and drop it- to bring him back. He knew he could. But he wouldn't. But I _want_ to, he thought. He sat there for far too long, in between decision but unable to make one. Eventually, he knew he had to get up though, go down to see Olive off. Sighing he left the charm where it was in his pocket, pulling his hand away. 

When he got down to the council room (it was less formal than the throne room), Emily was already nervously pacing. “Where have you been,” Emily hissed when she saw him open the door, pulling him in the rest of the way. “It’s almost time.”

“Olive isn’t even here yet,” he pointed out, moving to sit down at the big table in the middle of the room. 

“Ginger wanted to give her some books before she left,” she explained. 

“Sit down,” he told her, pulling out the chair beside him. “There's nothing to worry about. We found her grandmother. She's going home. You can stop pacing.”

“But she wasn't very nice when she came to see us, was she?” Emily worried aloud. “I mean she didn't even say hello to you. Are you sure about this?”

“No one says hello to me,” he pointed out chuckling, putting his hands on her shoulders. “And Olive will be fine,” he reassured her. “She's pretty tough. Like you, remember?”

Emily looked unsure. “I'm going to have a drink,” she said suddenly, her way of giving in that he was right. “Do you want a drink?” Emily asked. 

He needed one that was for sure. The last time he ‘needed’ a drink he ended up kissing a god in the Void. “No,” he said. “I’ve stopped drinking.”

“Since when?” She frowned. 

“Since yesterday.” He gave her a brief grin. 

Emily giggled. “What happened at that party? You’ve got a bruise on your neck and you’ve stopped drinking…” 

He sighed. “Nothing you want to know about.” He was barely sure it was something he wanted to know about. 

“Oh,” Emily downed the rest of her drink, pushing the empty glass into his hand. “Here comes Ginger with Olive.” She set off towards them. After setting down the glass on the nearest flat surface he did the same. 

“Hey, Olive. Are you ready to go home?” Emily asked sweetly, bending down so they were somewhat eye level. 

Olive just shrugged. “I guess.” She looked up at Ginger. “Thank you for the books.”

“Well, you're very welcome, Olive. I hope you enjoy them.”

Sam came in then. “Mrs. Dane is here,” he told them. “Should I bring her in?” Corvo nodded. 

It wasn't just a moment and the old woman was waltzing into the room at full speed. She wasted no time, not even bothering to greet Corvo or the Empress. “Alright, kiddo, let’s go. I've gotta get back to the store.”

Olive nodded. “Okay, Gran.” She stepped forward. 

“Wait.” Emily stopped them. She bent down to talk to Olive again. “Olive...if you ever need anything…” Emily trailed off, but tried to smile at the little girl. Olive just nodded, understanding. “You'll always be welcome here, okay? Don't ever think you can't come back to us.”

“Are you ready to go now?” The old woman sighed impatiently, tapping her foot. 

Emily nodded. “Goodbye, Olive.” She patted her cheek lovingly. Shockingly, Olive sprang forward, hugging her short arms around Emily’s neck. 

“Goodbye, Olive,” Corvo told the little girl when she pulled away. “I get the feeling we’ll be seeing each other again though.”

“Goodbye, Corvo.” She waved to them as she walked out the door with her grandmother. Corvo and Emily watched her go. 

A beat of silence passed between them. That had been harder than expected. “If you need me I'll be on the roof,” he said tiredly, dragging a rough hand over his face. 

“I'm going to find Wyman,” she blotted at her eyes. 

They parted ways and Corvo made his way to his spot on the roof. It would have been nice there too, had it not been for bird screeching at him every few seconds. It was that damn crow again. “You turn up almost as much as he does,” Corvo muttered, trying to shoo it away. When it didn't move Corvo just threw up his hands. “Fine,” he said. “Stay. He always does too.”

Except this time. He left. And Corvo let him. Encouraged him even. Corvo sighed; if he had been an idiot before he was an even bigger one now. Corvo missed him, the black-eyed bastard. He actually made Corvo miss him. 

The crow hopped a little closer, cocking his head at him. It was eerie how much the damn bird reminded him of the Outsider and he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Bastard,” he muttered, getting up to leave. It screeched at him again as he went inside. 

Corvo spent what little of the evening that was left on the ever growing stack of papers on his desk. He didn’t even know how they got there anymore. Maybe it was magic. He’d believe almost anything at this point. The magic of his desk was further confirmed when he had spent almost two hours on what was there and had barely made a dent. 

Just as he had laid down there came a knock at his door. It was too late to be anyone but Emily honestly. “Come in,” he didn't even get up to open the door. Emily entered quietly, not even having to say a word, just came in and laid down next to him. 

He didn’t question it, merely moving over and handing her a pillow. He knew why she was here. The look on her face said it all. She still wore the same expression she did now as she did when she was little and she had had a nightmare. She used to sleep with him all the time when she was young and they were both still mourning her mother. Neither of them had ever said anything of the habit. They had both just accepted it. 

“I love you, Father,” she finally said quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut just as tightly. 

“I love you, too,” he said, remembering what they had said before about saying those words more often. Somehow he got the distinct feeling the nightmare had been about him this time. He didn’t ask though. Emily was too much like him- she would just as well rather not talk about things either. They were both the kind to just grit their teeth and bare the pain in silence. 

And so they fell asleep like that. Both unsettled and tired. 

He dreamt of was a wall of grey. Belatedly, he realized it was rocks. Big ones, like the kind you find by the sea. He didn’t know what was on the other side of them but he somehow knew there would be answers there and he had to get to the other side of them. He pried at the cracks, throwing what stones he could out of the way. All he had to do was get through…

It was surprisingly dark when he broke through- he had been expecting light for some reason. The cold hit him as shockingly as the dark had. “The Void?” Corvo looked around questioningly, as he stood up fully. 

It was strange. It..hadn’t been the normal pulling in that usually for him into the Void. He had been the one pulling. Clawing at the cracks to get in. He hadn’t realized what he was trying to get into was the Void. 

“Corvo,” a familiar voice told him. “You've found your way here all by yourself. Congratulations.” He appeared on top of an outcropping rock. 

“Brought myself here?” He didn’t even know that was possible. 

“You had a strong enough desire that you made it in by yourself, yes. Well,” he said, “Only because _it_ let you. Nonetheless, an impressive feat of willpower.” He sat down, swinging his legs off the side of the rock. “I’m more surprised that the Void allowed it than your willpower though.”

“ _You_ are the Void.” He blinked up to the ledge to stand beside him. 

The god was not surprised by the sudden change, merely turning to face him. “I'm the _Spirit_ of the Void.” He shrugged. “More of a physical manifestation. The Void itself…” he waved a hand. “Tends to do what it likes. I don’t have as much control over it as you would think. It won’t even talk to me, awful thing.” He rolled his eyes. 

“It talks?”

“Obviously not.” A crow flew up then, landing next to the Outsider. 

Corvo frowned. It looked like... “Is that the same-”

“Yes.” He looked down at the bird, seeming half annoyed by it but patted it on top the the head even so. “The same bird.”

“Since when are there crows living in the Void?” He had only ever seen the Outsider and whales casually meandering around the Void. A crow was a first. 

“It's a new interest apparently.” He frowned down at the bird. “I think _it_ was lonely.” 

“The Void? I didn't know it got lonely.” He finally sat down, letting his legs swing freely over the edge as well. 

“Yes, Corvo. _It gets lonely._ It always has. That's why everyone is so afraid of it. Centuries ago, when I was still alive it was ….reaching out to people in a way. Coming in contact with them. A bit like your mark, but...worse. It drove people to madness.”

“Not everyone can handle the Void I guess.” His eyes flickered down to his own connection to the Void, his mark. He had trouble with it sometimes as a willing participant, he couldn't imagine someone who wasn't would ever take it well. 

“Exactly.” He shrugged then, “It had its reasons though. It needed a friend, so it was searching for one.”

“And it found you.”

“If you want to call being kidnapped and turned a human sacrifice being found, then yes, I suppose so.” He smiled humorlessly at Corvo. 

He grimaced, he hadn't meant it like that. “Sorry,” he said, knowing it was a hard subject. Corvo longed to reach out and touch him. At the very least take his hand to comfort him. 

The Outsider merely brushed the apology off. “I take no offense. It was a long time ago and whatever their reasons for making me what I am- whether they thought to control it or make it more amiable by sacrifice, I suppose it all worked out in the end.” Continuing he said, “I was...afraid when I was first here.” He gestured at the air around them. “If I had had a heart it would have beat out of my chest,” he chuckled, petting the crow now as he spoke. “And it was concerned, I think? It tried to show me what happened. Explain things as best it could. Eventually, we became what one might call friends.” He shrugged. “It wasn't malicious as everyone thought. Just lonely.”

“Are we still talking about the Void?”

He huffed, through his next words were light. “You think you're clever?”

“I've got to be to keep up with you.” He bumped his shoulder with his. 

“Now you think you can keep up with me?”

“Definitely.”

“Have you no respect for your god?” he chuckled. “You know there are those who would consider it an honour meeting me.”

_As if he could ever forget._ “Are these the same people who catch pigeons with their hands and leave you the bones when they’re done eating them raw?” Corvo asked though. 

He laughed good-naturedly. “Yes, well, my followers are a…special people.” He shrugged.

“So I’ve noticed,” Corvo snorted. More than once he's come across his worshippers. They had never been particularly kind either. Mostly they tried to open up his jugular over their shrine. 

“

Now, now, Corvo. You can’t think you have much room to talk, considering you are one of them.”

Corvo raised an eyebrow. “How's that?”

The Outsider took his wrist, bringing it up so the back of his hand was eye level. “You're mine more than anyone,” he declared rather boldly. “You've got the mark to prove it.”

He knew he meant his mark, but couldn’t help but think about the bruise on his neck and laughed. “I'm unsure if it counts,” he said, “Considering I've never done much by way of actual worship.” He’d been to many shrines over the years, always for some reason or another, but never had he gotten down on his knees to pray to the god. Maybe he should have at times, but he didn’t. 

“Worship is not always done at altars, my dear one.” He brought Corvo’s mark to his lips, kissing it softly, before dropping it back into Corvo’s lap. 

A shiver went down his spine and Corvo made himself stand. If he stayed there sitting next to him he was going to end up doing something he didn't mean to. 

“Why are you here, Corvo?” The Outsider’s black eyes watched him like a cat playing with a mouse. “I seem to recall you saying you didn't want to talk about it.” He got right to the point of things. He laughed. “Unless, I suppose, you didn’t come to talk.” His meaning was not missed. 

Corvo just shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m here,” he admitted. Running a hand through his hair he began to pace. _Why had he ended up here?_ Digging through that pile of rock all he had been able to think about was that he'd get some answers if he could just through it. Now, he wasn't sure he wanted answers, much less if he could get them. 

“Well, I've got all the time in the world, Corvo.” He stood up as well. “Come,” he nodded forward, further into the Void. “We will walk.” So they did. The Void helping Corvo, who could not float across the space like the god, by providing more rocks in front of the two of them. 

After a while of walking, Corvo belatedly realized he wasn't freezing. It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been when he arrived. “Is it...warmer here?” Corvo asked. Maybe he was numb though? He didn’t feel cold at all. Which was strange for the Void. 

The Outsider hummed, considering the question. “It would seem that way, yes.” He frowned over at him, then up at the crow that had begun to follow them as they walked. 

“The Void is...changing, isn’t it?” Between the crow and the temperature change, something had to be going on. 

“Yes.”

“Should I be concerned about that?” He asked, concerned for a moment that it had something to do with what the Outsider had said about Daud being able to affect him. 

The Outsider waved him away. “The Void is fine, Corvo.” He smirked after a second, adding, “Though, I’m sure it’s flattered to hear that you would be worried if something were wrong.” As if on queue, the crow slowly began circling down to them, landing on the Outsider’s shoulder when he got close enough. It squawked quietly over at him and the Outsider hummed in reply, eyeing Corvo.

“I feel like I’ve just missed something.”

“It said that it likes you.” A pause. “But it wants to know why you’re here.”

“Like you belong here anymore than I do.” Corvo scowled at the bird and it flew off again. He looked back to the Outsider. “I really don’t know,” he told him. “I’m not even sure how I got here.” 

“As I said, I’ve got all the time in the world, Corvo. There’s no rush to figure it out.” 

Corvo could almost hear the underlying reassurances under his words. This wasn’t entirely about figuring out why he was here and they were both aware of the fact. 

Making a decision to move, Corvo held out his hand with a sigh. “Come on,” Corvo said. “As long as I'm here I'm at least going to do something useful.” The Outsider raised his eyebrows in questions. “You said you didn't know how to dance. I'm going to teach you. I think better doing something else anyway.” Nothing about things were simple right now, but he could do this, at the very least. 

The god didn't move, looking unimpressed. “There is no music.”

“The whales will sing.”

Black eyes flickered to the sea creatures around them. “Whales do not sing any sort of songs you could ever dance to.” The argument sounded less than convincing though. 

“I'll hum then,” Corvo offered. 

“You're not going to stop asking until I agree, are you?”

“No,” he said. “Probably not.”

With a sigh, the god took his hand, icy fingers slipping between his easily, and Corvo pulled him closer. “This is pointless,” the Outsider told him, even as he let Corvo reposition his arms to the right places. 

“You're the one who complained that you didn't know how.”

“The statement wasn’t meant to mean that I want to learn,” the god grumbled. 

“And yet here you are,” Corvo smiled charmingly. “Learning.” The Outsider raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, after you start moving your feet,” Corvo amended. 

“You said you'd hum.”

He tried to drop his hands but Corvo held him tight. “I'm trying my best to multitask here,” he said. “Now, move your feet with mine.” And he started humming, as promised. 

It took him a moment, watching Corvo’s feet a long moment before he even tried to move. “No, no, move your feet the _other_ way,” Corvo told him gently, slowing his own pace so he could correct himself. 

“This is not-” 

The Outsider began to move away but Corvo held him there again. “No,” he said, “There. You've got it. See.” Corvo smiled down at him. “Dancing.” 

Terrible dancing, but dancing nonetheless. Mostly they were just swaying together there while Corvo hummed the occasion note, but it was enough to count. “One day I'll teach you something more fun,” Corvo said.

The Outsider shook his head. “And now you think there’ll be a ‘one day’?”

He weighed his next words carefully. “Well, I guess I sort of like having you around so I think I'd like there to be.” And Corvo kissed him. Softly. Barely there before he pulled away. A stark difference from their first one no doubt. “Maybe it wasn’t _nothing_ ,” Corvo admitted when he leaned away, his voice only a whisper. “But the thing is- I think you’re playing with me,” he admitted. “Because that’s the only reason I can think of for what you’re doing. And,” Corvo added, getting a little annoyed at himself now, “I honestly can’t fucking stand how much I love it anyway.”

“Corvo-” The whales had come closer. Close enough to bump the piece of rock their stood on. Corvo kept his balance easily, but the Outsider had already floated up and away rather than stumble to the ground and was glaring daggers at them. After a moment he looked back to Corvo, his face softening. “Corvo, I-”

And just like that, Corvo was gone. Back in his bed in Dunwall Tower. And his daughter was shaking him awake, tears in her eyes. 

“What? What?” He mumbled, barely even awake, but was already getting out of bed. A bad habit apparently. 

“You were gone,” Emily cried, only half way out of the bed herself. “I dreamt you were gone.” 

“I’m here,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“You were dead, I just knew it,” she sobbed into his shoulder. 

“I'm not,” Corvo told her gently. “I'm not. I'll be here to bother you forever.” He kissed the side of her head. 

“Promise?” She sniffed, propping her chin up on his shoulder. 

“Promise.”


	17. (I'm Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving Corvo Attano is dazing. He is entirely surprising in the things he does. It's a shock to the system. It hurts a bit- what he said, but you can't blame him. Once again you'll have to set the record straight. With words this time, you promise. You're compelled to now. _Because enough will never be enough._

He took a deep breath that he actually didn’t need, but he was unsure what else to do with himself now. The whales were trying to say something to him. He ignored them, considering what to do next.

“That was certainly a… _development_.” There was a chattered of agreement from several of the pod. The bird chirped as well from where it sat in its tree. “But he thinks I'm...playing with him?” He frowned deeply. The crow tilted its head to the side. “I'm not,” he defended himself to the creature. “He's very entertaining,” the Outsider admitted. “But I would not go so far as to… do _this_ for fun.”

The bird squawked at him. “Just be quiet,” he told it. “I don't need romantic advice from a bird.” 

Finally he sat down; not even bothering in his daze to conjure up anything to sit down on, instead just folding himself up into a cross legged pose in mid-air. “I’ll have to make some visits,” he said aloud, considering things. He didn't need advice from a bird, but he did need advice from _someone_. The Void, for all it was worth, offered him no help. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh apologies for the late update, I was feeling particularly lazy yesterday. [also there is an amazING piece of art inspired by this fic here](https://pricklypigeon.tumblr.com/post/170202158547/a-sketch-from-a-scene-in) made by [pricklypigeon](https://pricklypigeon.tumblr.com) <3


	18. He Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving the Outsider is like an addiction. One taste will do you in- you're hooked. It doesn't take much. It's hard to admit you have a problem at first. It's easier that way. Easier to lie to yourself rather than face your own truth. But then you do. You admit it and you still can't stop. Because even when you know shouldn't- it feels good. And you know you should know better than to fall in love with a god, but by then you couldn't stop yourself, even if you wanted to. _Because enough will never be enough._

“Good. It fits.” Emily nodded at him when he came out. Corvo looked down at himself. The blue was a bit...bright for his taste, but at least it was well made and fit right. He’d worn worse. Probably anyway. “Now only one last thing to do,” Emily told him. 

He sighed, knowing exactly where she was going with this. “Must I, really?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, stepping towards him to straighten his bowtie that he had barely remembered how to tie. “Yes.” Corvo scowled. “Besides, you already said you would.” She stuck her tongue out at him childishly. 

He did the same, but agreed nonetheless. “Fine.” He had been putting it off for as long as possible, but he supposed he had to now; the wedding was tomorrow. “I'll do it tonight.” He shook his head at his daughter, who was still watching him suspiciously. “I will,” he told her. “Promise.”

“Alright,” she said, albeit a bit begrudgingly. “Well, now that that’s settled, I have to go.”

“Where?” He asked automatically. 

“Girl’s night,” Emily answered. “And I’m already late.” She moved towards the door, but paused a second. “By the way, Wyman asked that you come to his stag night.”

He grimaced. “Emily...I-”

“He wants you to like him,” she said. “You should go.” She patted his chest. “Besides, someone should get him in a little trouble at least, don’t you think?”

“Why would you think I’m going to get him in trouble?” Corvo asked innocently. “I’m not that bad, am I?” He knew he was kind of prone to trouble...but he didn’t think he was quite so bad as to be a magnet. 

“Maybe it’s not your fault but you do always end up in trouble.” She grinned, “You should go.”

“I don’t _want_ to go.”

“Please.” 

“I'm shaving my beard for you- surely that's enough for one day?”

“Consider it my wedding gift.”

“I've already gotten you a wedding gift.”

“Birthday present then?” She tried again. 

“You think I'm getting you something for your birthday?” Corvo teased. Emily pouted. “Alright, fine,” he said, knowing full well he caved far too much with her. “Where do I need to meet him?” He was already regretting this decision. 

She clapped her hands together, delighted. “He said ‘the place on Lanchester Street’, but didn't explain.” Shrugging halfheartedly, she said, “Figured you might know.”

“I won't ask what you mean by that.”

She laughed. “I'm going to go. Good luck with Wyman. Don’t get arrested,” she called over her shoulder as she went out the door. 

After stripping off and finding clothes that were not for a wedding and suitable for...well everything, he made his way out of Dunwall Tower. 

He hadn't gone far when trouble found him. A man ran past, almost pushing him down in the process. “Stop!” Two guards ran past. Though maybe ‘ran’ was the wrong word. It was more like a jog, not even a fast jog at that. 

Corvo half sighed, watching them go past. Emily was right, he always got into trouble. Pushing himself to a sprint he passed the two guards easily, catching up to the man they were chasing almost the same way. He made it an especially short chase when he ran into a dead end alley. 

It wasn't much much of a fight when he reached him, the man going down easily. Even so, he had managed to elbow Corvo in the nose so hard it was bleeding now. “Dammit,” he muttered. 

“Hello, Corvo,” a voice came suddenly. Corvo didn't say anything. He hadn't seen hide nor hare of the god for days. He wasn't sure even he wanted to. “Is there a reason you insist on putting yourself in danger all the time?” The Outsider asked, eyes flickering over him as if checking for more damage. 

He pulled off the cloth wrapped around his hand and pressed it to his bleeding nose. “Old habits,” he answered after a second, wiping at the blood trickling down before it could run into his mouth. In truth, he hadn’t really intended to get into this particular fight, but the guards were just so pitiful. “Wasn't really dangerous anyway.”

The Outsider glanced down at the unconscious man on the ground. “At least you were winning this time,” he sighed. “Who is he?”

Corvo shrugged. “No idea. The guards were chasing him, I just sort of...joined in.” 

“Of course you did.”

“What can I say, can’t resist a good chase,” he huffed. “Where've you been then?” Another chase he couldn’t resist, he thought humorlessly. 

“Around.” 

“Mm, vague as ever.”

He chuckled. “If you must know, I've been ‘bothering’ others besides yourself, as you always seem so keen to suggest.”

Corvo frowned. That was odd. “And now you're back.” He sighed, unsure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Of course,” the Outsider practically purred at him. Corvo tried to not smile and failed miserably. “Did you think you were finally rid of me?” The Outsider asked, grinning back. 

_I hoped not._ “Something like that,” Corvo said, fishing around in his pocket for his cigarettes. “Why are you here though?” 

“We need to straighten some things out, you and I.” 

“I thought we already did that.” _And you disappeared._

“No.” Corvo raised an eyebrow. Taking the now lit cigarette from him, he continued, “You seem to think I've made a game of this.” He made a sort of gestures between the two of them, wisps of smoke floating through the air there. He frowned at the cigarette after taking a small drag. “These used to be better,” he commented. 

Corvo took the cigarette from his fingers, bringing it to his own mouth- considering his next words. _“Have you made a game of this?”_ He asked, breathing out smoke. “Because I'm starting not to mind, really.” It was just the way things were. While the god had been away he had decided he'd take whatever he could get. If playing the game was the only way to ever get any sort of relief...Well, he'd happily let the god win. 

The Outsider watched him curiously. He took the cigarette from him with deft fingers. “You are not a game to me, you must know that.” He brought the cigarette to his lips, looking distracted. 

“You expect me to believe you?” He asked quietly. It was a genuine question. 

He tried to take the cigarette back, but the Outsider held it away from him. He swatted Corvo’s hand the second time he tried to take it, a mix of cigarette smoke and his own Voidness stirring up between them as he did. 

“Yes,” he finally answered, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. “I do.”

The man on the ground let out a soft moan and they both looked down. Corvo kicked him lightly in the arm. He didn't move. He shook his head, looking back up to the Outsider. “Why?”

“Because I'm telling you the truth.” The god shook his head, frustrated. _“I’ve never lied to you, Corvo.”_ He held the cigarette out to him in offering now. “You are not a game, Corvo,” he reiterated. “Not to me.”

Slowly, Corvo reached out and took the cigarette back. “We’ll have to finish this later,” Corvo gave a pointed glance down the alley at the guards who had finally caught up to him. 

“Yes, of course,” the Outsider said. “I'll be back.” He disappeared quickly then, leaving Corvo to deal with the approaching guards. 

“You caught him,” one them said, breathing quite heavily. It wasn't that hard either, he thought but merely nodded. “Thanks.”

He hummed, wrapping his wrist back up with the now bloodied cloth, already beginning to move past them. He had somewhere to be after all. Whether he wanted to be there or not it seemed. 

“Aren't you gonna stay and help?” One of them called after him. 

“Not in the job description,” he called back and kept walking. 

When he came to the street Emily had named earlier there was no doubt in his mind which place Wyman had meant, it was the only building that was open, though was slightly confused when he entered. 

His first impression of the place was ‘what the everloving fuck is going on here?’, so he merely stood in the doorway, trying to figure out what to do next. He had expected a bar. Or maybe a brothel, hell. He had not expected a boxing ring. Or something like it. There were two men in the middle of the large room, hitting each other and Corvo saw fistfuls of money being passed about, which, he had to assume, were bets. 

“Corvo!” Wyman shouted halfway across the room, halfway stumbling towards him. He was clearly already drunk. “You came!” He threw an arm around Corvo’s shoulders. _Very drunk then._ “I heard you used to...you know...” He made an odd sort of punching gesture. “Thought you might like this,” he gestured widely to the fighters and the gamblers alike. 

Corvo glanced back at the fighters. One of them had, from the looks of it, just broken the other one’s nose. “More of a swordsman,” he said. Which was true, a tournament was really the only reason he was where he was at now and not still living out his life in Karnaca, but he had gotten into the boxing match or two here and there. He didn’t recall the acts being entirely intentional though. 

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“It’s good,” he told the other man. Wyman worried too much. “Where is everyone else?” He asked, eyes searching for any sign of anyone he actually sort of knew. Or anyone that looked like they knew Wyman.

Wyman frowned. “I don't know actually. You're the only one who's arrived. I’m not sure anyone else is coming?” It sounded like a question, like he really didn’t know who might actually show up and who wouldn’t.

In that moment Corvo realized exactly how his daughter had come to be marrying the man. There was no doubt in his mind she had found him alone and nervous somewhere at some party, took pity on him and became his friend, and eventually well...This. 

He also understood why she had been so insistent that he come. She must have known something like this was bound to happen. It was a bit sad actually. 

Taking pity on the boy himself, Corvo said, “Why don't we go sit down at the bar.” He needed a drink anyway. 

“So, why isn’t your father here?” Corvo asked when they sat down. The kid’s dad had to be showing up, he thought. This was definitely something father’s showed up for. Or at least, that's what he would have thought. 

“He’s not coming,” Wyman said. Then added, “He heard you might be here.”

“And you didn’t consider...not inviting me, so he would show up?” Corvo asked, watching the fight idly. Everyone was missing that their ‘champion’ kept leaving his right side open. Somehow. They had to have all been blind. 

Wyman shrugged. “Not really, no.”

“You understand how terrible that might seem to some, yes?” Corvo raised an eyebrow, turning back to him. He had never spent much time with his own father admittedly, but that was hardly his own fault. 

Wyman shrugged again, spilling his drink as he did this time. “My father won't kill me in my sleep if he decides he doesn't like me.”

Corvo laughed at the thought. “Trust me, neither will I. If I kill you, you'll be awake for it.” Wyman laughed, maybe a little hysterically, but seemed okay with the answer. 

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “You sir, you look like a perfect match for our man up there.” They grinned, showing all their teeth. “What do you say? One match? We’ll pay you handsomely if you win.”

He hadn't even opened his mouth yet when Wyman interjected, “Yes! He would love to!”

Corvo glared. The day he made good on that threat was becoming nearer and nearer it seemed. “Great! All you gotta do is knock the other guy down and that's it.” The man patted his shoulder. Before he could even protest there were people pulling him out of his seat and pushing him into the ring. He swore when the other man stepped in with him. 

“I'm not-” Corvo began but was immediately quieted by the fist coming towards him. He ducked, taking a step back as he did. “Fine,” he sighed, settling his feet into a better stance. “Guess I am then.” If he really wanted to do this, they'd do this. 

The man swung again, Corvo dodging easily. The man probably had weight on him and definitely the height, but he wasn't planting his feet right. A lot of dirty moves came to mind, not even counting everything he could do with his mark, but he wasn't sure what was allowed here and so he just waited, knowing that his time would come. He'd punch again and drop his right arm just enough for Corvo to get a good hit in, and it would have to be, and that would be that. 

As expected, his opponent lashed out again, soon dropping his arm afterwards. Corvo struck and it was over in an instant. The man on the ground, Corvo squatted down to speak to him. “You're leaving your right side open after every punch,” he told him. “Might want to work on that.” The man stared at him and it wasn't hard to guess he was thinking about getting back up and kicking Corvo’s ass. Which was fair, but they both knew he was gonna stay right where he was on the ground. 

The man who had brought him into the ring in the first place stepped between them though. Corvo stood and the guy grabbed his wrist, holding it in the air for him. “I think we have a clear winner here folks!” 

While someone helped the other man up and out of the ring, the announcer asked Corvo, “What do you say, sir? You wanna go again?” He shrugged. Why not? What did he have to lose at this point? The crowd cheered, pushing another man into the ring, much the same way he had been before. 

There wasn't much pause between the fights, the shorter man coming out swinging. His punches were light though, no follow through in them. More jabs than punches. Not only that but he didn’t have a lot of strength either, he was small. Probably why it was so easy to knock him to the ground. He raised an eyebrow at the man in the dirt, a silent question of, ‘Are you done?’ 

The man nodded and so Corvo helped him to his feet. “You hit hard,” the man said, looking a bit dazed as he left the ring. Corvo shrugged. 

He only realized then that his nose was bleeding again. “I think that's enough for the night, sir,” the announcer told him, looking slightly nervous as he put a hand on his shoulder. Corvo raised an eyebrow at him. Was he afraid he was coming after him next? Or just didn't like the sight of blood?

Nonetheless, he moved away- no longer interested anyway. Plus he had blood running down his face, he was more concerned about that than fighting the next drunken idiot who stepped up. 

The announcer followed him though, pestering at him like a buzzing fly. He half tried to wave the man away as he moved towards the bathroom to clean himself up, but he was still insisted upon giving Corvo the money, following him until he took it. 

It was not the cleanest place, nor the brightest, but there was a sink and a mirror and that would do. Looking in the mirror he had to grimaced though. He might've actually broken it. Damn. “Fighting again?” The Outsider hovered behind him, frowning at the sight in the mirror, too. 

Corvo pulled his shirt off, annoyed at having already dropped blood on it. “Not my idea this time.” He sat the pouch of coins in the Outsider’s hands. “Hold that,” he muttered, unwrapping the cloth from his hand once again to try to stop the blood running down his face, even as it dripped down his chin and onto the floor. 

“And yet you're bleeding.” He set the pouch on edge of the sink. “Again.”

“It's just a nose,” Corvo defended himself. It was bleeding pretty bad this time though. Probably from already doing this once today.

“A nose I like,” the Outsider said evenly. “And you may have broken it. Move,” he said, pushing lightly at Corvo’s hands, taking the rag from him. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Corvo sighed. Emily would kick his ass if he showed up to her carefully planned wedding with a broken nose though. Taking his chin in his icy fingers the Outsider tilted Corvo’s head this way and that, checking him over. 

The god hummed, sounding pleased. “Surprisingly, it actually doesn’t seem to be broken, but it is still bleeding a bit.” He set the rag back in Corvo’s hand, but didn’t take his hand away. “Is that your blood or theirs?” He asked.

“What?” Corvo asked, then glanced down at his hands where the Outsider was looking. His knuckles were a bloody mess. “Oh.” He flexed both hands, testing things out. When he found that the action did indeed hurt, he said, “Probably both.” 

The Outsider took the cloth from his hands again. “Sit down,” he told him, gesturing to the half broken chair in the corner. 

“Why?” Corvo asked tiredly.

“Because I said so.” He snorted, moving towards the sink. “Why must you make things so much more difficult than they have to be, Corvo?” 

“You're one to talk,” he said, but sat nonetheless. He was tired, who was he to protest sitting down? 

After wetting the cloth and wringing it out he came over to him, taking his bloody hand in his own. “Do I dare ask how this happened?” He asked as he began to clean the blood away.

“Are you saying you really weren't watching that go down? Cause I find that kind of hard to believe,” Corvo said tiredly.

“Alright, maybe I know what happened, but I'd rather know the why.” His black eyes flickered up to his. “You could have backed out, and then you could have said no to the next one. So why didn't you? Why fight?”

Corvo shrugged, leaning his head back against the wall. “Why not?”

The Outsider laughed. “You know, some might be grateful I don't live by the same words.”

“I'm sure,” Corvo agreed. “But you know as well as I do, I’ve never been one to back out of a fight.”

“No,” he said, scrubbing around Corvo’s knuckles. “You aren't.” He frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “But maybe you should consider it every now and again.” 

Corvo just grunted in reply. Maybe he was right, but then why change things now? 

Finally done with his right, he took Corvo’s left hand, his fingers brushing over the mark he had placed there. It glowed under his touch. He brushed his thumb over it again. “How long has it been?” The Outsider asked suddenly, still cradling Corvo’s hand in his own, looking down at the mark fondly. 

“Since what?”

“Since I gave you your mark.” A pause. “The first time, anyway.”

“You aren’t very good with time, are you?” The Outsider threw an annoyed look up at him in reply. “Seventeen years,” Corvo answered. In retrospect, it couldn’t have felt that long for the the god. It felt like an eternity to him. It had been so, so long ago that he had first stepped into the Void, had first taken up the Outsider on his offer, since everything had really changed. 

The Outsider hummed, turning his attention back to the task of scrubbing the blood from Corvo’s hands. “It feels like longer,” he said, surprising Corvo. He leaned in closer, scrubbing gently at the blood in his beard now. His other hand held his jaw still, his thumb digging into Corvo’s chin. 

“I could have done this, you know,” Corvo remarked quietly, sighing at the closeness of it all. He closed his eyes, unable to stand looking at him anymore. It was too much. Especially up this close, close enough he could feel his cool breath against his skin . His fingers twitched, thinking about the fact, wanting to reach out. 

The Outsider hummed in agreement. “But, I wanted to.” Corvo felt him move just a little closer, both on his hands moving to Corvo’s shoulders. “What do you want, Corvo?” He whispered, lips barely brushing against his ear as he did. 

Corvo opened his eyes finally. _Anything you'll give me._ “I'll have to get back to you,” he told him instead, standing suddenly. “Got something to get back to right now.” He nodded towards the door. 

“Of course.” The Outsider dropped the rag in his hand, looking slightly jilted as he did. “Don't let me keep you from your bloodshed,” he remarked lightly. 

“No more bloodshed.” He moved towards the door. “Not tonight anyways.” Not if I can help it, he thought. It didn’t take much to change that. 

Leaving the Outsider in the grimy bathroom Corvo returned to his seat next to Wyman quickly, not risking doing something stupid by sticking around. “Are you okay? Do you want a drink” Wyman looked at him concerned. “You look kind of..out of it.”

“Just thinking.”

“Well, maybe you’re overthinking it.” He paused a long moment. “Whatever _it_ is. Remember what you told me before. Stop overthinking it.” He laughed drunkenly. “Just do it. Whatever you’re overthinking, you should just do it.” 

Wyman clapped him on the shoulder, before standing up and walking towards the fighting ring. Emily was going to kill them both if she ever found out about this, he thought belatedly. It probably wouldn’t take long considering how likely it was Wyman was going to get his ass kicked. “Fucking hell,” he sighed, the realization hitting home. He got to his feet, grabbing Wyman before he could get much further. “Wyman!” He called over the sound of the crowd. “Emily is going to kill you if you come to your wedding beat to a bloody pulp!” Not to mention she'd probably beat him to a bloody pulp for letting it happen in the first place. 

“Oh.” He looked completely dumbfounded for a moment. “Oh! Oh, god, you're right. You're right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Corvo said. “Just sit down.” He shook his head, “Maybe don't drink any more.” Alcohol it seemed was a terrible idea in any situation. 

Wyman’s previous words itched at him though. _‘You should just do it.’_ Just do it, Corvo thought. Just do it. It was a thought. And not a bad one at that. Would solve things one way or another. Maybe the god would get would get whatever it is he wanted and stop torturing him and Corvo would just get some relief. The thought was becoming more and more appealing by the second. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Wyman.” He stood up. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he advised, patting him on the shoulder. 

He knew exactly where he was going when he set off. It would be a bit of a hike this time of night, but it was the only shrine he knew of that wasn't somewhere terribly conspicuous.

The cave was dark, but someone had left a fair amount candles burning on the shrine. Convenient, he thought. Almost as convenient as the knife left there too. Picking it up he reconsidered his decision one last time. 

He sighed, no backing out now. Something had to give. It had to or he was going to throw himself into the ocean. Again. _‘There’s power in blood.’_ He pulled the knife across his palm, flinching at the pain, but not drawing away. He let the blood drip down onto the shrine. 

When nothing happened Corvo finally said, “I’m not kneeling.”

An ominous chuckled answered back and the Outsider was standing beside him. “Well, why start now I suppose.” He stepped forward. “I didn’t even know this was here,” the Outsider threw out casually, poking around the shrine . “Not terribly impressive.” He drew a finger over the wood of it, then looked at the impressive clump of dust that he came away with. “Or well used apparently,” he added, flicking the dust away. 

Corvo snorted. “I won’t mention that to what few people actually come down here then.” 

The Outsider smiled, turning his attention back to Corvo. “A good idea, probably. Wouldn’t want them to burn it down in spite.” His eyes flicked down to Corvo’s still bleeding hand when it began dripping onto the cave floor. “Let me see that,” he said, taking Corvo’s hand gently in his own. 

Corvo nodded absently, letting him do as he wished. Be could have walked away in that moment. Leave all these crazy ideas behind him. But he couldn’t, he really couldn't have. He didn't even want to though and there was a part of him now that just wouldn’t let him. It had to know. Consequences be damned. 

“You seem preoccupied, Corvo,” The Outsider commented, letting his hands fall from Corvo’s now healed palm. 

Corvo’s eyes flickered back up to the Outsider, his fingers curling over the place his hands had just been. “I’m fine.”

“Are we here for a reason then?” The Outsider looked around at their dreary surrounding as he leaned back against the altar, looking every bit the aloof god people painted him to be. “Surely you didn't want to show me this.” He spread his hands out. 

_Now or never._ “I told you I'd get back to you,” he answered, stepping closer. 

“You did.” There was a sharp glint in his eyes though. Like he half expected what was to come, but he wanted Corvo to get where he was going on his own. It made Corvo a little more sure of his next actions, if by only a little. 

He pulled the whalebone charm from his pocket, placing it instead in the Outsider's hand. “You’ll have to listen.” And Corvo grabbed the front of that stupid coat of his and pulled the god to him, pressing his lips to his before he could react. 

Corvo heard him drop the charm, the sound echoing throughout the cave and felt his hands pull at his own clothes, hauling him closer to deepen the kiss. It wasn't surprising how much he tasted like the salt water he had nearly drowned by, nor how coldly shocking his touch felt like this. It was exactly what he had expected in fact- had wanted. 

The Outsider’s hands had moved up to his face, his thumbs stroking through his beard as he did. Eventually his lips made their way to his neck. “What do you want, Corvo?” He murmured, pressing a kiss below his ear. 

There were a lot of things he could have told him, a lot of half truths and things that weren't quite right. But the truth, the real whole truth was this, this is what he wanted. He wanted _him_. All of him. 

Corvo wanted it _all_ to be sure. The way his mouth quirked up at the side when he thought he was being clever. The crease he got between his brows when Corvo did something he viewed as ‘stupid’. The quiet that settled between them sometimes that was always felt so peaceful. Their connection that was always there one way or another because of the Void. Cold hands and lips, both of which he enjoyed warming as it turned out. Black eyes that saw everything, but missed it all when it came to him apparently. _Everything._

The god chuckled, his hands tangling in Corvo’s hair as he placed light kisses along his jaw. “I should have known,” he said lightly. “The man who asks for nothing, wants everything.”

He hummed in agreement. He should have known too. Should have saved himself a lot of time and stress and admitted it sooner, too. _I want it all, but I'll take whatever you're willing to give._

The Outsider sighed closing his dark eyes. “You can have it all,” he answered. He shook his head smiling. “I'd give you anything you asked of me, Corvo.”

Corvo stopped, meeting his eye. “I'm asking now.”

“And I'm saying yes.”

He just pulled the Outsider back to him in answer, kissing him harder, more fiercely this time. He loved him, desperately so. There was no point pretending anymore. Not that there ever seemed to be one in the first place. Yet he held no expectations. 

The Outsider was pulling his jacket off and his shirt. His hands stopped Corvo when Corvo started pulling at his own clothes. “Corvo,” he said. “That's- You shouldn’t. It’s-” he shook his head, but Corvo already had his coat off and had his shirt opened to reveal a fairly large chest wound. “Bad,” the Outsider finished quietly. 

Corvo stared for a split second. The wound, a long thin cut, crudely sewn up again though obviously unable to heal, was like his eyes. Black. It was then that he made the connection. This was where _they_ had drove their knife, what _they_ had done to their sacrificial lamb. He kissed over the unhealed wound. “It’s fine,” he told him, making him meet his eye before continuing and spent not another second worrying about it. 

When it got to the point where he had sunk down to his knees, the Outsider laughed again. “And you said you weren’t kneeling,” he breathed heavily, leaning his head back as Corvo kissed his way down. 

Corvo smirked as he brushed his lips across his hipbone, enjoying the reactions he was getting from the man. “Would you rather I stop?” He bit down lightly on the spot where his lips had just been.

“No,” The Outsider hissed, a shiver going through him. _“Please.”_ His fingers curled in Corvo’s short hair when he tugged down his pants. So, Corvo didn’t, kissing down his hips, then going lower. 

The sound he made when Corvo took him in his mouth was downright obscene. And it wasn’t hard to admit to himself that he was getting a thrill out of it all. Out of the wonderful little noises he was evoking from the god. Out of the feel of his skin beneath his hands as he pulled him closer. Out of the already familiar taste of him. And especially out of the noise of protest the Outsider made when he drew back finally. 

“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you're an all or nothing man, Corvo?” The Outsider half gasped when Corvo stood back up and turned him around, his palms landing on the edge of the shrine with a dull thunk. 

Corvo ignored him, reaching past him to grab the oil he had brought. The god let out the most deliciously pleasing moan he had ever heard when Corvo pushed a finger inside. The Outside spoke after a moment, “Tell me, Corvo-”

“Please,” he said finally, slipping in a second finger. “Stop talking.” The Outsider talked too much. Always. Even now it would seem, although he didn't know what he expected honestly. _Of course he was a talker._ But there were no more words when Corvo finally replaced his fingers with his cock. The god’s grip on his shrine tightened as he sunk further into him, his breath hitching. After pausing there for a second, he began to move, setting an almost agonizingly slow pace that made them both groan. 

“Corvo,” the Outsider breathed, leaning back against him. He just hummed, hands coming round to stroke the other man’s cock a few times. 

It wasn't too much longer and he couldn't stand it any longer and quickened his pace. His grip was tight enough that he might have left bruises if it were anyone else. The Outsider voiced no complaints though, merely reaching back to pull him closer as he came. “Fuck.” Corvo breathed out a long breath, pausing where he was for a moment, relishing in it as he dropped his head against the Outsider’s shoulder for a second.

“Fuck,” he sighed again, but wasted no more time- already moving back and pulling the Outsider back around to face him. They weren't quite done here.

A fact that the Outsider seemed to agree with already. “Corvo,” he hissed, hands coming to grip his hips. “I _swear_ -”

“I’ve got you.” Corvo kissed him, taking him in his hand. “I've got you,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against his. He kissed him again when he came, breathing in his own name from the god’s mouth. After a moment, Corvo dropped his head against the other man’s shoulder with a tired sigh. 

The god placed a light hand on Corvo’s heaving chest- over his heart. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “What are you thinking?” The Outsider asked suddenly, one hand coming up to stroke his hair. 

Corvo looked up at him then, regarding him lightly. “I could ask the same.”

The Outsider rolled his eyes as he finally began putting both their clothes back in order. “You don't like to make things easy, do you?” He asked, but still his mouth whirled up a bit at the side. He picked up Corvo’s shirt and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” Corvo murmured, taking the shirt from him. 

“I'll tell you though,” the god said, buttoning his coat. “Since you've been rather forthcoming today.” Corvo raised an eyebrow in question. “I am thinking that you...are very warm.”

“Warm,” he echoed. 

“Yes, very.” He pulled Corvo closer by the front of his shirt. “And now so am I.” He smiled. 

Corvo put his hands on the Outsider's face. He was in fact warmer now. Still cool, but not freezing anymore. It was an oddly pleasant thought that he was the reason for that though. “You are,” he smiled fondly, leaning his forehead against his. “But I have to go,” Corvo said quietly after a minute of them staying like that. 

The Outsider closed his eyes. “I know.”

He planted one last kiss on the Outsider’s lips before forcing himself to step away finally. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, not pausing to look back at the god or the mess they had made.

He walked back, mostly in a daze. The realization of what had happened slowly settling over him. If he hadn't been a heretic before, he sure as hell was one now. 

On his way through the castle he surprisingly encountered Wyman again. “Corvo?’

“Wyman.” Neither of them had expected to see the other obviously. 

“You're missing a couple of buttons.” Wyman squinted at him in the dim light. 

“You've got blood on your collar,” Corvo observed, equally judgemental in tone. 

Wyman grimaced. “Maybe we should just never talk about this night,” he said. 

Corvo nodded. “Agreed.”

Continuing to bed he only barely bothered to kick off his boots before falling in. He needed to bathe, truly, but it could wait until tomorrow. 

He hadn't been there long when he felt a cool hand against his shoulder. “You again?” Corvo asked quietly, half a joke, but accepted the man into his bed without hesitation. 

“Me again,” the Outsider confirmed, tucking himself up against Corvo’s side. “If,” he said, “That's alright.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, already half falling back to sleep. Corvo’s took his hand in his own, bringing it up to his lips before letting the two of them drop onto his chest. The Outsider was always a surprise, but never one that he minded.


	19. (I Return To Him Anyway)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving Corvo Attano is like coming to life again. It feels surreal. It was as if you had finally come up for air after being underwater for so so long. If you had a heart it would be beating out if your chest at the pure ecstasy of being with him. And whether he knows it or not, you love him. You love him so deeply you know there would never be another. _Because enough will never be enough._

Corvo was a surprisingly sound sleeper. He only moved when the Outsider did, usually to grab back ahold of him or throw one limb or the other over him. It made the god wonder if he was subconsciously trying to make sure he didn't leave. 

It was tempting then, to wake him up. To tell him he was not going anywhere. That even when he had to, he would come back. He couldn't not. 

Corvo wasn't much of a talker though. Not in this regard and he had a suspicion he would mostly be made uncomfortable by all these words. And so, he let Corvo sleep; with most of him wrapped around him no less. 

Eventually, he did have to go though. He didn't want to, but the other option was Emily walking in on them. Probably not something Corvo would love to have happen. 

He had barely whispered his name and he felt Corvo stir, barely awake, but awake enough. “I have to go.” He didn't say anything, though his grip momentarily tightened around the Outsider’s wrist that he had latched into at some point in the night at the words. He twisted around so they were facing each other. “Sleep, dear one,” he pressed a small kiss to his lips. “I will return, I promise.”


	20. But He Loves Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They are everything to each other._

His day started early. Much earlier than usual, in fact. Emily had let herself in, throwing open the curtains and already off on a tangent he couldn't even comprehend yet. 

Sitting up in bed he realized he was in fact alone in said bed. It was then he vaguely remembered the Outsider leaving him just as the sun had been rising. 

“I can’t just let her stay with that woman. She’s had it bad enough, don’t you think? I mean, she’s gonna end up taking care of her in a few years anyway? That...that isn’t a childhood, Father. So, I was thinking that maybe...she could stay here? Stay here and I don’t know, we’ll say Wyman and I adopted her or something and-” For the first time Emily spared a glance over at her father. “Are you even listening?”

He scrubbed at his eyes. “No,” he answered honestly. “I'm not even awake, honey.” He patted the bed blindly. “Sit down.” She paced and talked too fast when she was nervous. Making her sit down sometimes helped, though he doubted it would do much today. 

She did, albeit a bit nervously, her hands twisting together in her lap. “I don’t think we should have let her go with that woman.”

“Why?” He asked, already feeling tired and the day hadn't even really begun yet. 

“I've just got a terrible feeling about it all.”

Corvo raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure this is about Olive and not the fact that you're getting married today?” He hated to be the one to have to ask, but he did sort of feel obligated to. 

Emily shook her head. “No. No, it’s not about the wedding,” she said firmly. “I'm worried about Olive. I don’t think we did the right thing.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, still feeling only half awake. “What do you want to do then?”

“What can we do?”

“Talk to her?” All things considered, he was rather short on ideas at the moment. “Invite her to the wedding and talk afterwards?”

She frowned. “Okay. How do we get her here though?”

He sighed. “I’ll go get her and we’ll fix it.” Shrugging, Corvo added, “Or _I_ will. Somehow.” He had pulled off bigger miracles at any rate. While wanted for murder and high treason no less. This wouldn't be so bad. “It'll be fine,” he assured her. 

She stood up finally, moving towards the door. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Emily lingered at the door. “You still haven't shaved.”

Corvo rolled his eyes. Of course she had noticed. “I'm going to do it after I bathe,” he waved her away. “Go.” When she didn't move he reminded her, “Em, we’ve both got to get ready. You should go.”

“You're right, yeah. I need to go.” Nodding to him one last time she left, shutting the door behind her with a soft ‘click’

He gave himself only a moment to sit and wake up. It was going to be a busy day. He already knew he would be cutting it close with getting back in time before the wedding. 

Sighing, he climbed out of bed, heading for the bathroom to take his much needed bath. It would have been easier to have done it last night, but it was too late to be changing his mind on the matter. 

It was only just as he had sank down into the water and closed his eyes that the Outsider returned to him. “Corvo,” the god said coolly, dipping his fingertips into the edge of the hot water. 

“You know, I’m starting to think you just like seeing me without clothes on.” Corvo didn't open his eyes, but smiled. 

The Outsider flicked water at him. “You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?”

“Don't make me pull you in here with me,” Corvo said. The threat was mostly empty, but he wouldn't hesitate if the god tested him on the matter. He opened his eyes, “Something you need, or did you just come to stare?”

The Outsider smirked, waving a hand through the water. “Oh, I just came to stare today.” 

“Mm, well, make yourself useful then and hand me the soap.” He pointed to the bar he had left on the edge of the sink. 

“Make me.” There was a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. 

“What did I just say about pulling you in?” He asked, grabbing hold of his wrist with a wet hand. 

The god laughed, shaking off his hand and standing up. After passing the soap over he started poking through the other things Corvo had laid out already. Wrinkling his nose as he held up the straight razor, he said, “Tell me you're not really going to shave your beard.”

Corvo laughed as he washed. “Afraid so,” he told him. “The dear Empress has forced my hand on the matter.” It wasn't exactly that he didn't ever shave, it's just that it was such a pain in the ass that he hardly bothered anymore. It was easier to have a bit of a beard than to shave every other day. 

Dipping under the water, he emerged to find the Outsider had come and sat down on the edge of the tub again. Apparently having become bored with looking through his things. “You've got some nice grey hairs there, my dear Corvo.” It was said mostly in jest, the Outsider smirking as he ran a hand through his hair, moving it out of Corvo’s face. 

He stood up. “I didn't hear you complaining last night,” he smiled, stepping out of the tub. He flicked water at him. “Hand me a towel.”

“It was dark, how was I to know?” The Outsider chuckled but passed over a towel nonetheless. “You forgot this by the way.” He set the bone charm into Corvo’s palm softly, his fingers still warm from the water.

“I didn't forget it,” Corvo said, setting it down on the sink. Wrapping the towel around his waist he picked up the soap brush. “I gave it to you and you lost it.”

He watched Corvo curiously as he began drying off. “You could have found it again.” 

“Maybe,” Corvo said, “But I wouldn't have seemed nearly as suave when I left if I had paused to scrabble around in the dark to look for it.”

The Outsider barked out a laugh. “I didn't know you were trying so hard.”

“Absolutely. Appearing as mysterious and cool as I do takes work,” Corvo told him, finishing brushing on the shaving soap on his face and picking up the razor. 

“I had no idea.” He smirked. 

Corvo only hummed, finally setting the blade to his face. Almost immediately he was bleeding. He swore, swapping the blade to his other hand to press his thumb to the spot he had nicked. “Maybe I shouldn't have sharpened the damn thing,” he half muttered, trying to stop the bleeding. 

The Outsider took the blade from him, shaking his head as he moved Corvo’s hands away. “I can see why you don't do this often. You're very bad at it.” He took Corvo’s chin in his hand, tilting his face this way and that before laying the razor to his throat. “Be still,” he whispered, drawing it down. 

He was much better at it than Corvo actually. Surprisingly so. “You didn't think I'd be back, did you?” The god asked absently, continuing what he was doing. “I could see it in your eyes earlier. You were surprised.”

Corvo shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

“You still think this is a game.” The Outsider said, shifting his chin with light fingers. 

Corvo smiled. “You seemed to have won, if it makes you feel better.” When there came no reply, he opened his eyes. 

The god was frowning at him, razor halfway to Corvo’s cheek. “You're not a game, Corvo. If you were,” his eyes flickered up to his. “None of this would have taken so long, I assure you.” He shook his head and continued, putting the blade to his skin once again. “You're very entertaining, I'll admit, but you aren't a game. What has happened is not a game.” He paused to clean the blade. “And,” he said, “If anyone has won anything, I believe it is you.”

“What is it then?” Corvo asked sincerely as the god finished the last few bits of what needed shaving. _If it wasn't the god getting bored and playing around with the mortals for a bit, then what was it? And why now?_

Setting the razor down, the Outsider watched him for a moment, seeming very mindful of his next words. “I've seen plenty of people come and go, Corvo.” He shrugged. “After a couple of centuries you don't feel a thing. Even the mortals you sort of like, well, they don't mean much in the grand scheme of things.” Looking hesitant, he paused before continuing. “Perhaps it will not mean much to you, or prove anything, but I do care about you, Corvo. I realized the day you almost drowned, because I couldn't stand to watch you go. There have been many others I've watched without the slightest pause, but I saw you and it...it hurt my very soul.” The god sighed, sounding tired to his very bones, “So, I saved you. I intervened when maybe I shouldn't have, to make sure I did not have to watch you go.” 

Slowly, Corvo nodded, taking it all in. Funnily enough, come to think of it, he did remember something- no, someone pulling him up to the surface. At the time he had thought it was the sailors, but now…. “You….pulled me up,” Corvo said, becoming surer of the words as he said them. 

“I did.”

“That's uh...I didn't know that.” He frowned. “I...uh, need to get dressed.”

The Outsider hummed, only nodding and moving to the side. 

Corvo nodded again, finally moving the god aside so he could rinse his face. When he had finished washing off the leftover soap the Outsider was staring at him, his mouth quirked to the side, not quite in displeasure, but certainly not in endearment. 

“I take it you aren’t a fan then?” He asked, drying himself off. 

The Outsider came closer, bringing his thumb along the edge of Corvo's now clean shaven jaw. “I liked the beard,” he admitted. “But I suppose I wouldn't throw rocks at you.”

“I'm flattered.” Corvo laughed quietly, moving past him and back into his bedroom. The words were setting in as he pulled his clothes on. 

The Outsider sat on his desk, quietly watching him get dressed. Eventually he spoke. “What are you thinking?” 

Continuing to struggle with his bow tie, Corvo said, “That I can't remember how to tie this damn thing.” 

Standing up, the Outsider told him, “Let me rephrase then, how are you feeling now?” He moved closer. “Better?”

Corvo sighed, shaking his head. “I don't know about that.” He sighed again. “But I do believe you.” He leaned over to place a light kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you,” the Outsider told him. 

“Mm, don't thank me, just tie this for me.” Corvo said, finally giving up on the bow tie himself. “I seem to have forgotten since yesterday.”

“Do I look like I know how to tie a bow tie?” He gestured to his own clothing. “Bow ties didn't even exist when I was alive, Corvo.”

“You’re useless.” Corvo sighed, pulling the tie completely off and stuffing it in his pocket. Emily would have to tie it later. 

“Not entirely.” Grabbing Corvo by the front on the shirt, he pulled him in for a kiss, his mouth slanting perfectly against his own. After a moment he moved down to Corvo’s jaw, cold tongue running over it a bit before he moved his lips to Corvo’s neck. He kissed it once, then twice, then bit down on the spot. Corvo shivered. It was going to leave a mark. No doubt his intentions. When he leaned back he said, “I do know some things.” He touched the place where his mouth had just been. “Like how to do that.” He smiled. “That, I think I'm quite good at.”

“You're a cruel god,” he whispered back, pulling his hips against his own. 

The Outsider stepped away with a smirk. “Why do you say that?” He asked. 

Corvo snorted, “Because you choose to do this _after_ I put my clothes on.” Sitting down he pulled on his boots, only adding to the tragedy. 

“There's always time to take them off.”

“There isn't actually,” Corvo told him. “I’ve actually got things to do today, you know.”

“You've always got things to do.”

“You can come with me, if you’d like.” 

“Another adventure through Dunwall?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“A quick one. I’ve got to make it back _before_ the wedding.” If he managed to get everything done without any sort of troubles then he would probably get back only just in time. 

The Outsider narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve got to get that damn dog, haven’t you?”

Corvo laughed, pulling on his coat. “Amongst other things, yes. Don’t know why you dislike this dog so much though, you haven’t even met him.”

“I don’t need to,” he said. “They're all terrible.”

“People say that about your followers, you know,” Corvo said, “ _And yet, I am a goddamn delight._ ”

The Outsider laughed, loudly- obnoxiously. “If that's what you want to believe, Corvo.” 

“I'm gonna make you hold the dog on the way back,” Corvo threatened, moving past him towards the balcony. They'd take the usual route out, easier that way anyway. 

As they crossed the rooftops- or at least Corvo did, the Outsider merely moved from one roof to the other like a shadow- the Outsider asked him, “Why did I even give you powers if you're just going to ignore them and hop rooftops like you've got no sense?” 

“I use them sometimes.” The Outsider raised an eyebrow at him. “I haven't had a reason too, lately,” Corvo defended himself. 

“Why do you need a reason?” He asked. Corvo just shrugged, not really having a better answer for him. It wasn't something he had really put much thought into it, it was just a sort of rule he had always seemed to have as long as he had had the powers. There was something about power that made Corvo very mindful of using it. 

Eventually they reached the kennels and Corvo left the Outsider once again. He was greeted as soon as he went inside. “Ah, Lord Protector!” Cecil grinned at him happily. “Back for your dog, eh?”

“I am,” Corvo confirmed, walking up to the counter. 

“Well,” Cecil patted a box behind him, “He's right here, waiting on you.”

“Ah, good, thank you,” Corvo said. “I'm in a bit of a hurry today, so I appreciate you bringing him up front.” 

“Aw, it was no trouble,” the other man waved him away, smiling. “Happy to be of service to the Empress and our Lord Protector.”

It surprised Corvo, really. Usually, people said things like that and it was out of obligation. They never really meant it, but Cecil seemed entirely sincere. In his surprise Corvo could only says, “Thank you again.” He looked down at the dog. “I think she’ll be very pleased.” He picked the puppy up out of the box knowing it'd be easier to just carry him that way. 

“Well, I'm happy to help you anytime, my Lord.” He smiled charismatically. “And if you ever want a dog yourself, I’d be happy to help.”

He thought about the Outsider’s reaction to him getting his own dog and couldn't help but laugh. “I'll think about it,” he told the man, nodding to him as he continued on his way and out the door. 

The Outsider regarded the dog in mild disgust upon first glance, but seemed slightly less annoyed at the creature as they began to walk again. Maybe it was only because Corvo was holding him. “It had to be a dog,” The Outsider commented after a while, shaking his head. Corvo merely nodded. It had to be. “Where are we off to now then?” the Outsider asked as they walked. 

“To find Olive.”

“Didn't you just send that little orphan off with her grandmother?”

“Emily had second thoughts.” 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Little late for those, I’d think.”

Corvo shrugged, though he half agreed. “I’m just doing what I'm asked,” he told the other man. The Outsider just huffed in reply, nothing more to say on the matter. As they neared their destination, he stopped the god. “Hold the dog,” he said. 

“No, thank you.” He backed away a few steps, but Corvo followed. 

“Just do it,” he said, setting the puppy into his arms before he could protest anymore. The Outsider scowled at him, the joyful puppy seeming none the wiser at his displeasure. “See, not so bad.” He scratched the dog behind the ear. “You can handle a dog for five minutes, you’re a god,” Corvo smiled at the two of them as he walked into the shop by himself. 

The store was the same as it had been the first time he had come in. Same dusty furniture smell, same dusty furniture. He had only walked in a few feet when he discovered Olive sitting in one of the chairs, a book in her lap. “Olive,” he said. 

“Corvo?” She frowned at him from where she sat. “What happened to your face?”

The kid was as blunt as ever. “I shaved,” he explained. “But that's not really why I'm here.” Olive waited for him to continue. “I-”

“What do you want now?” Olive’s grandmother asked suddenly, appearing out of nowhere almost as silently as the Outsider.

“Mmm, well, the Empress,” he said, “has asked that I come invite you _both_ to her wedding later today.” He smiled, hoping he seemed convincing. “She would very much like both of you to attend.”

They both stared at him for a moment before the old woman snorted. “Get outta my shop, boy. I got actual customers to talk to.” She waved him away, turning her back on him. Olive shrugged at him, moving to go with her grandmother 

He had went as far as the door when the young girl from before stopped him, grabbing hold of his arm. “Wait. Listen, I'll convince them to go for you,” she smiled at him. “Just gotta make her a little tea and she gets all soft. They'll be there though, don't worry.”

“Thank you,” he told her. And sincerely meant it. “You can come as well, if you'd like,” he added. “There’ll be cake.” 

“Thank you, that sounds lovely,” she grinned. “I'll do my best.”

“Thank you,” he said again, waving as he went out the door. 

As soon as he returned the Outsider was next to him. “Take your dog,” the Outsider said immediately. 

“Are you sure? Looks like he likes you.” Corvo smiled, watching the pup chew on the edge of the god’s sleeve. He actually did seem partial to the Outsider, despite his previous words of dogs never liking him. 

“Take your dog,” he repeated, glaring down at the creature in question. 

“You know,” Corvo said, scooping the creatures out of his arms, his teeth snapping when drawn away from the Outsider sleeve, “I think it's not that dogs don't like _you_ and more than you don't like _dogs_.”

The Outsider waved the both of them away. “The logistics aren't important in the matter.”

“If you say so,” Corvo said, bumping his shoulder with the Outsider’s. 

They walked, mostly in silence unless the Outsider offered out a comment about something or the puppy whined, all the way back to Dunwall Tower. “I think here is where we must part, my dear one,” the Outsider said when they got almost to the gates. 

“Probably,” Corvo agreed.

The Outsider pulled him down, only giving him a small peck on the lips before letting him go. “Goodbye for now.” 

“Goodbye for now,” Corvo echoed as he disappeared. The puppy whined at him. “Alright, alright,” he said, patting it on top of the head. “We’re going. Calm down.” He turned and went inside. 

When he found Emily, she was in her room, carefully trying to put her hair up in front of a mirror. “Oh, you’re back,” she said in greeting, not even looking back at him properly. 

“I am back,” Corvo said, coming in and setting the dog down in her lap. 

She gasped, going to pet him immediately. “Aww, and where did this one come from?” Emily continued petting him, totally oblivious that the pup was a gift. “He's so cute,” she grinned. 

“The kennels,” he answered her. “He doesn't have a name yet though.”

“Aw.” Emily patted him on the chest. “You don't have a name?” She asked the dog. “The kennels should find a name for you. Yes. They should find a name for you.” The puppy began yapping, only furthering her comments. 

As she continued cooing over the dog he said, “Might be better if you named him, since he's yours now.”

Her head snapped up to look at him, her mouth falling open. “No.”

He laughed. “Yes,” he told her. “He's yours. My wedding gift to you. And Wyman, of course,” he added as an afterthought. 

“He's precious.” Emily kissed the top of the dog’s head. “Thank you.”

“And I shaved,” he pointed out. “Told you I’d get it done.”

“And what about Olive?” She frowned, looking guilty again. She was unsure about the entire thing, he could tell. 

“Olive is...coming.” Hopefully anyway, he thought. “As a wedding guest. With her grandmother. You can talk to them afterwards?” He suggested. “And then...I don't know. We’ll figure something out later.”

“What am I even going to say to them, Father?”

Corvo shrugged. “I don't know,” he admitted, “But I think you'll know when you talk to them.” He tossed his untied tie to her. “I forgot how to tie this by the way.” 

“Since yesterday?” She snickered, putting the dog down and coming over to pull it around his neck and tie it for him. 

He shrugged. “Apparently.” 

“Maybe you're getting old,” Emily teased lightly, finish the tie. She folded his collar down and frowned. “What's on your neck?”

“Wha-”

“Is that another hickey?”

“No!” He pulled his collar back up, swatting at her hands. 

It was too late though. Emily had already seen the damn thing. “That wasn’t there this morning!” She grinned, half giggling. “What have you been up to?” 

“It’s nothing,” he hissed. 

“You're blushing!”

“Because you're accusing me of...things,” he finished lamely. 

She giggled. “I'm going to need to fix that, you know.” He cringed, hoping for some merciful god (obviously not his) above to strike him down. “Sit,” she told him, pushing down on his shoulders. 

He sighed, but did as told as she fetched her makeup. Sitting down next to him she pursed her lips at the bruise. “I really don't wanna know what happened,” she said dabbing makeup on his neck lightly. “Ever really. I could go my whole life not knowing what happened and be entirely fine with it, in fact.”

“Okay.” It wasn't like he having to hold himself back here. He didn't want to tell her what had happened anymore than she wanted to know, he felt fairly certain. 

“But I-”

_“Do not finish that sentence.”_

“But,” she continued with a giggle. “I would like to meet whoever... ya know...put this here. _Whoever_ they are. Maybe?” She smiled, sweetly. “Would that be possible?”

He sighed. “I...Maybe.” He ran a hand over his jaw, missing his beard again. “I'll think about it.”

She hummed, content with that answer for now at least. “Are they nice, at least?”

“Nice?” He echoed, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

She shrugged. “Nice.”

He had never really considered whether the word ‘nice’ had applied to the Outsider before. “I...guess?” It was hard to say. The god wasn't exactly cruel, but he didn't offer a helping hand to just anyone. He appeared very human in that regard, Corvo thought absently. But, he was nice enough, he supposed. At least to him anyway. 

“Do I know them?” She had stopped what she was doing with her makeup now, seeming fully intent upon trying to figure out who he had been with since the morning. 

“I...don't know,” Corvo answered honestly. He had never asked either of them about what contact they might have had. Honestly, he had never had a reason to. He supposed it might not be a bad idea to ask the Outsider at some point now though. If Emily was insistent upon meeting him, it might go better if she already knew who he was. 

Emily sat back, frustrated at not knowing now. After a moment, sat up, going back to work with her makeup. “Well, whoever they are- they’re big on the teeth, huh?”

_“Emily.”_

“Come on, this is the second bruise we’ve found on your neck.”

“Please, stop.” He pushed her hands away. 

“Okay. Okay,” she laughed. “I’m done anyway. Do whatever you want,” she told him, putting her things down. “As long as you're happy, I’m happy,” she parroted his own words back to him cheerfully. 

“You're terrible,” he said. “And where's your dress? Aren't we supposed to be going outside to your _wedding_ soon?”

“We are,” she said, picking the puppy up again. “We are. I'm just waiting on the seamstress to bring my dress down and then I can slip it on and we can go.” A knock sounded at the door. She smiled. “And there she is,” she said walking across the room to open the door. 

She greeted the seamstress and her assistant happily, already chattering away with them. 

“Would you take this little guy for me?” She told the seamstress’ assistant, looking pointedly down at the dog. “Don't want to get anything in the dress.”

They moved into the next room so Emily could get dressed, the young woman leaving the dog with Corvo as they did.

“Ready now?” He asked, as she came out, her white dress almost getting caught in the doorway. 

She took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down her dress one more time . “I think so, yes. How do I look?” She smiled nervously, sweeping her hair back. 

“Beautiful.” The answer was automatic, but it was the truth too. Her dress was stunning and she was as gorgeous as ever. She looked so grown up though, it almost broke his heart. It reminded him of Jessamine, in fact. 

Biting her lip she asked, “Any words of wisdom you'd care to share before we go out?”

“Why would _I_ have any advice? I’ve never been married, Em,” he laughed. Her mother had turned him down on multiple occasions though. She had always insisted that it wasn’t something she wanted, or needed from him. 

“I don't know,” Emily giggled, hooking her arm with his. “You're very wise. You always have advice.”

“Sorry, I haven't got any experience on this one.”

“Well, give me advice about love or something…”

He hummed. “Nothing is coming to mind, I'm sorry.”

The ceremony was short. As perfect as she wanted it, to be sure, but short. Afterwards Emily steered him towards a couple and Wyman introduced them. “Mom, Dad, this is Emily’s Father, Corvo Attano,” Wyman introduced them, looking terribly nervous as he did. “Corvo, these are my parents Margaret and Jack.”

Corvo shook hands with each of them, though they regarded him rather disdainfully as he did. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” Wyman’s Father said flatly after an awkward moment of them all standing there. 

Corvo nodded. “I'm sure.” _‘Did you read about my arrest in the papers, Jack?’_ , he almost asked. When no one else said anything he finally cleared his throat and said, “Well, it's been a pleasure, but I’m gonna go.” He heard Emily giggle as he walked away without another word. 

A few more people tried to stop him, but he continued outside the tent. He was looking for someone specific. _Where are you?_ Looking around he finally spotted a dark figure out on the beach, walking over the large rocks by the water. He shook his head, walking that way. 

“Didn’t make it easy to find you,” he said when he finally got there, having to climb up the rocks carefully so as not to accidentally break something- _like a bone._

The Outsider shrugged, throwing a couple rocks into the pooled up water below them. “You did say to steer away from the crowds.”

“I did.” He glanced overhead at all the seagulls. “You could have made it less of a hike to get here, though.” The beach was a fair distance from the pavilion, which wasn't a problem, but climbing over the rocks had been a bit of a challenge. 

“You could have used your mark,” the god pointed out. 

“Well, not all of us use magic at every given opportunity,” Corvo said. He was right, though. He could have, but it was more of a preference. 

The Outsider rolled his eyes, dropping another stone into the water. He watched it sink down into the sand before briefly flicking his eyes back up to Corvo. “Who tied your tie?” He asked. 

“Why, jealous?” Corvo smiled, answering before he even had time to scowl at him, “Emily tied it for me.”

“Well, you look very...dapper.” His eyes went over him a few times more. “Maybe a shade or two too-bright, but the color is still good on you.”

Corvo snorted. “Glad to have your approval.” He bumped his shoulder with his. “Your scarf doesn't look so bad on you either, I guess.” He wondered when he had grabbed it from his desk. 

Rolling his eyes at his marked one, the Outsider said, “Thank you, I stole it.”

“Does it really count as theft if you own it?” Corvo asked, hooking an arm over his shoulder and pulling him along with him- away from all the rocks and towards the actual beach. 

Walking with him willingly enough, the god shrugged. “I would suppose it depends on who we’re saying owns it.”

“You,” Corvo replied automatically. “I told you before, it's yours.”

“Whatever you say, Corvo,” he snorted, but his hand came up to fiddle with Corvo’s collar, frowning. Thumbing his collar down, the Outsider asked,“Didn't I put a bruise on that neck earlier?” He frowned, fingers deathly light as they went over the spot. 

“Emily put makeup over it,” Corvo explained, his hands settling comfortably over the god’s wrists as his hands came up to hold his face. 

“What a spoil sport,” he said. After a moment, the Outsider pointed back to the tent where everyone was. “You should go dance with your daughter.” The Outsider dropped his hands. “She's waiting.”

“But there's… _people_ over there,” Corvo said, dramatically cringing. “Annoying people who’ll attempt to talk to me.”

“A true tragedy.” The Outsider nudged him. “Go.”

“Fine, fine,” Corvo mumbled. As he was walking away he called back, “I'm warning you now though, I'll be back.”

The band had already started by the time he reached the tent, but nonetheless he went over to her, ignoring those of who actually recognized him and tried to stop him to speak. He offered out his hand when he got to the table she was sitting at. “May I have the first dance?” He asked.

“Why, hello again,” Emily smiled, taking his hand. “Where did you wander off to?”

“Nowhere important,” he told her, bringing her to her feet. “And I've decided I do have advice,” Corvo told her. The dance was almost ending, but he was determined they would still make the best of it. 

She grinned, obviously pleased. “Do tell.”

“I've always told you to trust your gut,” he said. She hummed in agreement. “And now, I am going to tell you to trust your heart, because sometimes it knows better than your gut.”

“Poetic,” Emily smiled, letting him twirl her around. 

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes, but kissed her on the forehead, when she twisted back to him. “I really tried my best.”

She smiled. “And it was wonderful, thank you. I will _try_ to listen to my heart from now on.”

He laughed. “I think you're making fun of me, but I'm not sure what kind of advice you wanted if it wasn't that.”

“No, it was perfect advice,” Emily giggled. “I’m glad you came up with something.”

Corvo caught Wyman eyes over Emily’s shoulder. He was very obviously, anxiously waiting to dance with his new wife. He hummed. “I think your husband wants to dance,” he said, stepping them closer to him. “I guess I'll be nice and let him.” He smiled at Emily. 

He nodded to Wyman, handing his daughter off to the boy. Pausing, he watched them for a moment before he set back off to his own date. They were happy, that much was obvious. He was glad. Emily deserved as much happiness as she could get, and he saw that she was in her smile when Wyman kissed her hand before continuing to dance with her. She found her happiness. 

Returning to the Outsider he found that the god was squatted down and talking to a puddle of water. Walking closer he saw there was an near dried up jellyfish in said puddle of water. “Are you...talking to the jellyfish?” Corvo asked. 

The Outsider stood up. “Maybe,” he said, lifting his chin up at Corvo. 

Corvo chuckled at his obvious defensiveness about the issue. “I thought you only talked to whales.”

“I talk to a lot of creatures you don't know about,” the Outsider said. “I just happen to really like whales.”

Grinning, Corvo said, “Me and the whales are your favorites, huh. Boy, do I feel special.”

“You should.”

“Oh, I really do.” He offered out his hand. “There's music this time,” Corvo said. The Outsider didn't move. “Did I teach you to dance for nothing?” He asked, pulling the Outsider into a half unwilling embrace. “Come on.”

“You're ridiculous, Corvo,” he said, but let Corvo sway them back and forth to the very distant music. 

“I don't disagree.” He smiled though. “But you're the one who complained you didn't know how to dance.”

“I don't think I know any better now than I did before.” 

Corvo chuckled. “Of course you do. We’re dancing now, so shhh.” They had only stood like that for a few more second before he heard footsteps and desperately regretted his entire existence before he turned around. It was, of course, Wyman’s mother Margaret. And it was obviously too late for the Outsider to leave. 

“I _knew_ it. You,” she pointed a finger at Corvo. “You live in sin. You consort with the Outsider. The _Devil_.” She sneered at the Outsider. 

The Outsider arched an eyebrow at her. “Well, you should see the things we do at night then. Because this one,” he smiled, bringing a hand up to lightly stroke Corvo's face, “Does a lot more than _consort_ with me.” Margaret made a strange sort of choking sound, her hand clutching at her chest. The Outsider leaned closer to her, almost threateningly so. “But then, who would ever believe you if you told anyone?”

Wyman’s mother stared at the two of them in horror, her eyes flicking from the Outsider’s devilish smile to Corvo’s mostly neutral expression. “Maybe you should rejoin the others,” Corvo suggested lightly. “We wouldn't want to ruin such a special day, would we?” 

She stuttered out a soft, “N-no.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Best be off then.” 

As soon as she had gone far enough Corvo finally burst out laughing. “What?” the Outsider asked. Corvo shook his head, pressing a hand to his mouth to smother his laughter. “Are you laughing at _me_?” He asked. 

Corvo shook his head. Well, maybe he was a little. His comment about ‘consorting’ wasn't helping, but that wasn't what was so funny. It was the situation, the absurdity of it all and Corvo couldn't but laugh. “It's nothing,” he chuckled. “Nothing at all.” 

The Outsider scowled. He shook his head, grabbing his face and bringing him in for a light kiss, even as the god continued to look annoyed with him. “I just love you,” he admitted. “And I've only just realized.”

The scowl had fallen from his face. “Oh.” 

“You look a bit in shock,” Corvo added, smoothing his hands down his neck. “Should I repeat myself?” He asked. 

“If you would, yes.” The Outsider nodded, looking a little dazed. 

“I love you.” Corvo smiled. Putting an arm around him again, they started walking. 

After they had made it a little ways down the beach the Outsider spoke again. “It took you long enough.” Corvo just laughed, nodding in agreement. It had taken him plenty long enough, that was for sure. Quietly, he added, “I love you, too, you know?”

“I know.” Corvo kissed the side of his head, threading their fingers together. Maybe he had found his own happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh only the epilogue left now I'm shook


	21. (And I Want Him To Live)

“Don't be afraid,” the Outsider told him, kissing the top of his head. They were both on their knees in the cave, though the context was entirely different this time. Corvo was dying and he knew it; it was why he had come to the shrine. Poison. Because of course it was. Always so trusting, his love was. 

“You have to take me with you,” Corvo shuddered, next to him. He dragged his eyes up to meet the Outsider’s. The Outsider sighed, he couldn't even count how many times they'd held the argument of what would happen the day Corvo did die.

It was...difficult for him. It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was just...the thought of condemning him to the same fate as himself seemed...terribly selfish of him. 

“I won't leave you alone,” Corvo told him, tightening his hold on the god. “I can't.”

“I must love you,” The Outsider whispered, hating himself, knowing as he said the words he would cave. He would be selfish and do exactly as Corvo had asked. 

“Will it hurt?” And for once in his life he actually sounded scared. 

It broke his heart. “No.” He kissed the man’s head again, trying to comfort him. “Not at all, my love.”

It wasn't hard to find Corvo’s soul; he knew it well. Reaching out with his mind he took hold of the bright, warm thing- bringing it gently with him into the Void. 

They appeared as they always did, next to each other in the darkness of the Void. Though it was...different somehow, though he couldn't place exactly how. It was lighter maybe. 

“I don't feel any different,” Corvo remarked lightly. The Outsider frowned, reaching out to touch him. Corvo was as warm as he ever was. He had expected that to leave him, when he brought him here. Half surprised, the Outsider realized it was because of his soul. It was warm, it had even made the Void a little less coldly it's mere presence. 

“The Void does.” He kissed him. “You've changed it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! There we are folks! The end (for this fic anyways, there's still one more adventure for Corvo before I'm done) Thank for reading!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr ](http://generalatomicsgalleria.tumblr.com)


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